


A Knight and Her Lady

by Onhiro



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: 13th Century AU, F/F, I swear!, IE 'Common Knights', Minor alterations to society, set in England, the major character death isn't what you think it is, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26082709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onhiro/pseuds/Onhiro
Summary: There was a practice, ancient and almost more fit for legend than for actual use, of a champion knight, a brave warrior who would fit in the stead of their lord or lady, one whose loyalty was unquestionable, whose bravery was renowned. This is the story of one such champion raised from the ranks of commoners to protect the honor of life of her lady. This is the story of Dame Atsuko Kagari, Common Knight, and of Lady Diana Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh.
Relationships: Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari
Comments: 172
Kudos: 330





	1. A Cavendish and a Kagari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lady Bernadette Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh, has a conundrum to solve. Her daughter, Diana, is seven years old, and is just beginning her education on how to rule after her mother's titles are passed on to her. Of course, Bernadette has the highest of hopes for her daughter. It is not directly with her daughter that the issue lies.
> 
> England...is not the stablest of realms. Though Bernadette has managed to keep her own lands free of strife and worry, she is not deaf to the complaints that her peers have against King Henry III. Richard Marshal, son of England's most famous knight William Marshal, had even raised arms against the King, forcing concessions through feat of arms. Bernadette knew that there might be some who would seek to test her daughter's mettle once she became Countess of Wedinburgh. She needed a champion, someone loyal and brave, someone who would never betray her.
> 
> Well, actually...there was only one answer, wasn't there? Young Atsuko Kagari, the daughter of refugees from far off lands. A bit unusual to train a commoner to be a knight, but then, Bernadette had several favors that she could call in. Yes, Atsuko would do nicely...
> 
> Day 1: Childhood Friends

A Cavendish and a Kagari

“Bernadette, are you sure that this is a good idea?” The words were exasperated, and Lady Bernadette Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh, laughed lightly as she waved off her sister’s words.

“Absolutely positive,” she replied as the two of them came to a stop atop the wall that ringed her manor house, and they looked down on the busy yard below. The smith was busy at his forge, the rhythmic ringing of his hammer sounding out through the warm, spring air, and the stable hands were busy tending to the horses, getting them ready for turn out into the fields. The other manor stuff bustled to and fro, many of them coming in and out of the manor house itself, various scribes and servants and all the people who saw to the smooth functioning of her lands seeing to their duties. A troop of her household guard marched in neat formation to where they would receive their tasks for the day, whether patrolling through the county or guarding the walls of the manor itself. But they weren’t the ones that she and Daryl were focused on. No, they had eyes on the two children who scampered through the yard, laughing and playing.

One of them had hair the color of rich mahogany and striking crimson eyes that sparkled with excited mirth. The other had eyes the color of an autumn’s day, deep and blue, and even at their young age, they showed the measured intelligence that the Cavendishes were well-known across the realm for. Her hair, too, betrayed her lineage: the two toned locks bearing the pale gold and tea green that had bred true in their family going back a thousand years and more, hair that the common folk whispered about, saying that it was a hint of the blood of fairies or other mystical creatures that the family could claim ancestry of. Whether or not those rumors were true, Bernadette had no idea. But the words themselves bore no ill-will, and precious little harm would come from them. She loved her people, and her people loved her. There was no harm to those superstitious rumors, and so she never tried to silence them.

“But a _commoner_ ,” Daryl went on to protest, and Bernadette sighed as she leaned against the crenellated battlements.

“Yes, the young Miss Kagari is of common birth,” she acknowledged. “But Diana must learn that while she is of a higher station, that those not of noble birth truly aren’t all that different from us, that they are people just as much as we are.”

Daryl sniffed disdainfully as she turned away. “That’s dangerous thinking, sister. Precious few of our peers think the same way.”

“And how many of them rest uneasily, or have to rule with an iron fist, ensuring that their subjects who must hate them so never get the chance to rise up to depose them? I could go to any part of Wedinburgh or to any of the villages or hamlets within our borders and I would be greeted with joy.” She shot a sidelong glance at her sister. “It is better to be loved than to be feared, and kindness is our family creed.”

“I’ve never tried to deny that,” Daryl protested, twin spots of embarrassed anger on her cheeks. “But familiarity has its own issues, Bernie. It is one thing for the commoners to love us, and another thing entirely for Diana to associate so closely with a commoner. And not just a commoner, but one whose parents are of foreign birth.”

Ah, yes. The Kagaris. Refugees from a distant war, they had traveled along the Silk Road and had moved further and further west, moving across the continent in search for a safe place to call home and to start their family. Eventually they had crossed the channel and found themselves begging her for refuge. She had welcomed them with open arms, and even now they produced paintings and pottery in a style thus far unknown in England. They sold for a pretty penny and more than paid for the Kagaris’ residence. With the obvious support and respect of the Cavendish family, they had very quickly begun calling Wedinburgh home and had started a family, integrating well into the community. And now, their daughter played with Diana, and the way that they played with one another made it clear to see that they did not think of one as being superior to the other, their birth statuses be damned. They were equals in play, and _that_ was what Daryl had issue with.

“They’re just children,” Bernadette said softly as she looked down on the playing children with a fond smile. “Diana is already seven, and has begun her tutelage for being the next head of the family for when my time is done. Young Atsuko…I have been speaking with her family. She does not show the restraint necessary to continue their work, not like her older brother. But Diana is going to need a champion, a bodyguard who she can trust over any other, someone who would never betray her.”

An almost horrified pause as Daryl stiffened next to her. “ _Her?_ ” she almost screeched. “You would send a _commoner_ to be a noble lady’s champion?”

Bernadette straightened, brows drawing together as she frowned. “Common knights are a thing, Daryl,” she said warningly, steel in her voice. “Chosen amongst the common folk for showing particular promise, and unable to pass their knightly title on to any children they might have, _and_ subordinate to any noble-born knight, but they are still a thing. Miss Atsuko shows great promise indeed. The girl has no fear and is practically Diana’s shadow. I’ve never seen her run away from anything that might be a threat during her friendship with Diana, and the Lord Jesu only knows what predicaments we’ve found the two of them in…but the point stands. Her friendship with Diana has already bred that loyalty. The two of them are as thick as thieves, and with the right training, Atsuko could very easily be the foremost champion of all of Diana’s generation.”

“But-”

“There is to be no further discussion on this, Daryl,” Bernadette snapped. “The Lady Wedinburgh has decreed it!”

Daryl stared at her with wide eyes, her face slack with shock. She knew that Bernadette hated using her title for anything, and had spent years developing working relationships with all of her subjects so that they would gladly do what she asked so that she _didn’t_ have to order. For her to invoke her status as the Lady Wedinburgh…she was dead serious about this. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable pause, Daryl curtsied, head tilted down as she stared at the floor. “Yes, my Lady,” she murmured.

Bernadette stared at Daryl for a moment longer before she nodded, satisfied with Daryl’s response. “Young Atsuko will leave after her seventh birthday, so we still have a few months left.” She grimaced slightly. “I’m just not sure of when to break the news. I know that this likely won’t be taken well…Atsuko will be training under the Baron Hargrave.” Blue eyes softened by pity looked at the two girls playing in the yard. “It’s going to be a long fourteen years for them…”

xxxXXXxxx

“Ho, there, Akko, going on a quest again today?”

Akko smiled cheekily at the guard who had spoken. His face was weather beaten and he had a magnificent moustache (“The best amongst all the guards!” he was often heard boasting) that was curled up in a broad smile that revealed his teeth, some of them missing from the rough and tumble life of a guard. “Of course, Alfred! There’s a dragon in the north woods!”

“Oh, you don’t say!” Alfred laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell the lads!” His brown eyes shifted to Diana, and he nodded respectfully, the smile not leaving his face. “Young Mistress,” he greeted.

“Alfred,” Diana returned with a warm smile. “How’s Ygritte?” Her mum had made it very clear that knowing about the families of all their subjects was incredibly important, as it showed that they truly cared about them, that they weren’t just the source of labor or taxes or goods, that they were respected and cherished.

“Very heavily pregnant, Young Mistress,” he replied, smile growing rueful. “Her mother is like a worried hen, clucking all about. Almost seems like neither of us get much rest! But she’s hearty and hale, we expect the best.” He glanced about conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone else, but I’m _actually_ hoping for a daughter first, and not a son.”

Akko gasped theatrically. “Oh?”

He winked as he leaned on his spear, his maille armor jingling slightly. “How can I not, with two such upstanding young lasses running about?”

Diana’s smile was a bit shy. “Surely you flatter, Alfred.”

He laughed. “Maybe just a little.” He glanced up at the wall where the Countess was watching, and his face grew more thoughtful and serious. “But not as much as you’d think. Your mother is a fine leader, and has few rivals of either sex. The King often bends her ear for advice on issues he faces. She is wise and kind…it would be damned foolish of me to believe that a son is better than a daughter, yeah?” Then he noticed the wide-eyed looks he was getting from the two of them, and he smiled gently. “But that’s a more adult discussion, young ladies.”

“Alfred, come on!” came the annoyed call from across the yard. “Kendrick is going to be cross if your lollygagging keeps him on the wall longer than he needs to be!”

“Right, don’t get your braies in a bloody knot!” he shot back before turning his attention back to Akko and Diana. “Well, have fun hunting the dragon, I’ll tell the lads to keep an eyes out for the fearsome beast. Take care, Young Mistress, Akko.”

They chirped their goodbyes before they continued their way to the stables. Akko had already helped muck them that morning, as was part of her morning chores, and she looked about the building with ill-disguised excitement, and Diana laughed. “Calm down, Akko,” she chided gently. “The north woods aren’t going anywhere.”

“I know!” Akko groaned. “But you’ve been so busy with your studies lately that it seems like we never get the chance to go exploring!”

Diana hummed even as her heart twinged at the sad note in her friend’s voice. Ever since she had turned seven, her mother had insisted that her teaching start, and tutors from all over the country seemed to occupy the manor like a foreign army. Akko was right. It really _was_ nice for a day where they were both free. They made their way to their horses…err, _ponies_ , really, but Akko liked to pretend that her pony was a proper courser, swift and strong, used by knights and nobles alike. Diana was determined that once they were old enough, she would get Akko such a horse, let that childhood dream become reality. But that would be something to think about in several years. For now, they had their ponies to saddle.

By now, they were both skilled at it, and needed only slight help from the table master getting their mounts ready for the ride, and it wasn’t too long before they were leading their ponies from the stable, Diana’s a grey mare with white socks and Akko’s a stocky little gelding that was Star brown with a broad white snip. Diana glanced up to see her mother and Aunt Daryl still watching the two of them, and a brief flutter of worry ran through her. She was too pale. The physician had said that there was no reason to worry, but her mother didn’t have the strongest body. Father Godfrey said that it was because her heart and spirit were so big, but Diana didn’t know how much she believed that. It was not easy being a Countess, and it wore on her mother.

Yet she still found the strength to smile down at the two of them as they swung up into their saddles. “What adventure is it today, children?” she called out.

“A dragon, my lady!” Akko replied back in her clear, piping voice.

“There’s one in the north woods, mother,” Diana added in, and her mother laughed, clear as a bell.

“Well, I’m sure that it stands no chance when faced with two such brave warriors of God. Methinks that even Saint George would take note of your spirit.” She glanced up at the sky. “Be back in time for dinner.”

“Yes, mother.” “Yes, my lady.”

With that, they were off at an easy canter, the hooves thundering hollowly over the drawbridge before they reached the stone of the main bridge beyond, and Diana took a deep breath through her nose as she looked out over the fields and forests surrounding their home. Children were fishing in the river that served as their moat as their mothers kept careful watch while washing their laundry as the men toiled in the manor fields. All was well. All was at peace.

It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later when they reached the outskirts of the woods that lay to the north of the manor. It was close enough that neither of them had any fear in their hearts. No bandits would dare to occupy these woods, not with regular patrols of guards so close nearby. Nor were there any animals that would pose any great danger to the two of them, so long as they gave them the respect that they were due. Indeed, they also weren’t the only ones to visit the woods…servants from the manor and peasants from the local villages were collecting firewood and berries and wild herbs and mushrooms, and they warmly greeted Diana and Akko as they dismounted.

“Should we let them freely graze?” Akko asked, but Diana shook her head.

“They might spook and run off, and while we could walk back home, mother and Master Cluff would be cross with us if they did.”

“Fair enough,” Akko replied as she glanced about. “We could ride them into the woods themselves, especially if we’re going to our clearing.”

Diana thought that one over. It made sense. “Very well,” she said before narrowing her eyes at Akko. “And no racing!”

Akko’s eyes were entirely too innocent. “Race? Me?”

“Yes, _you_. I’m surprised you only got off with a light switching after falling from Star like that.” She huffed. “As well as surprised that you weren’t hurt from the fall.”

Akko giggled. “Of course not, I hit my head.” She rapped on her head with her knuckles. “My thick skull protected me.”

“Quite,” Diana said as she rolled her eyes. “Come on, then.”

The woods were fairly dense, and so they had to proceed at a walk, and had to duck several times to avoid low hanging branches. As they rode, they spoke, mostly about Diana’s studies. Akko had no stomach for schooling, much preferring to run about outdoors with her friends from the village. She had no need for fancy schooling, she often boasted. Why, she would rather help with _all_ the chores about the manor than have to be stuck in a room listening to an old man drone on about dates and facts and figures.

Diana didn’t quite understand her friend’s feelings. She loved learning, and took to it like a fish to water, much to her mother’s pride. Books had always held her interest, even when she was very young. And now that she was just beginning to learn how to unlock their secrets…yes, some of the tutors were terribly boring, but that didn’t matter, not when she was learning so _much!_ Her mother had taught her letters and numbers when she was just a little girl, and now that she was beginning to learn other languages…it might bore Akko to tears, but Diana honestly couldn’t wait for each lesson to start.

Diana noticed Akko staring at her, a smile on her face as they finally drew close to the clearing that they had claimed for their own when they had first discovered it a year ago. “What?” she asked, a slight blush touching her cheeks. If Akko was about to tease her, she’d…she’d…! Well, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but she’d do _something_!

But Akko merely smiled wider. “You’re happy. That makes me happy. I don’t see you this excited about much of anyth-”

She stopped, suddenly, her head swiveling sharply about, dark hair swishing against her shoulders as narrowed crimson eyes looked out into the surrounding woods.

“Akko?” Diana whispered as she, too, looked around, confused at the sudden change in Akko’s mood. The woods were suddenly no longer welcoming, and she realized that it was now very silent around them, the sound of birds and animals now absent.

“…we should turn back,” Akko said after a moment, her voice tense. Diana then noticed that Akko had her hand around the hilt of the small dagger at her hip, and a surge of fear ran through her. That dagger was the only one between the two of them, and it had been made with Akko’s six-year-old hands in mind…a man might use it to pick his teeth! Akko mainly used it to whittle wood and cut the stems of tougher flowers that they might bring them back to their mothers. It would not count for much as an actual weapon.

Akko seemed to realize this just as soon as Diana did, for she started looking about the forest floor near the narrow path that they were on before she was dismounting and running over to pick up the largest branch that she could manage to pick up. Her face was still worried as she got back up in Star’s saddle, stick held in her fist. Her worry was for good reason…the largest stick she could wield wasn’t all that large, and might only serve as a distraction if it came to blows.

Diana shivered, scared eyes casting about, peering through the trees and the underbrush. She had never felt so frightened as she did now, the woods that had always been so safe and fun now foreboding and threatening. “Akko?” she whispered again, and Akko turned determined crimson eyes on her.

“I’ll protect you, Diana!” she said, voice brave despite how her shoulders were trembling.

The voice was unexpectedly close. “You would protect her, child?”

They both spun to see the two women standing further down the path, and Diana swallowed heavily. They hadn’t just been there a moment ago, just standing in the open like that, and there weren’t any bushes that they could have been hiding behind. A prickle of fear crawled down the back of her neck and down her spine.

“Yes!” Akko insisted even as she moved Star so that the two of them were between Diana and Beatrix, and the two strange women seemed more amused than wary at how Akko slightly lifted her stick. Diana looked over the two of them more carefully as they exchanged a glance between one another.

The one on the left had long and vibrant red hair and crimson eyes, and the one on the right had teal eyes and short lilac hair. Both of them were dressed in a way not known in their parts, the redhead’s white dress daringly cut, and her companion was dressed as a man, with a short red cloak thrown over her shoulders. They both had stout staves, and Diana gasped as she realized that they might be wise ones, wizards like Merlin of old. Both sets of vibrantly colored eyes flicked briefly to her. Even as she watched, a white bird came fluttering down to land on the redhead’s shoulder. For a moment she thought it was a dove, until she realized that its form was all wrong for that…it was a crow, a snow white crow. “Would you defend her even if it meant your death?” the lilac haired one asked, her voice cold and proud.

Akko was well and truly shaking now, but for all that, she still turned Star so that his stout little body blocked more of the path, so that if these two women wanted to try and get Diana, they would _have_ to get through her first. “Yes!” she said again, and even though her voice shook with fright, the word was still determined.

Then the redhead smiled gently, laying a hand on her companion’s shoulder. “You’ve nothing to fear from us, children. We are merely passing through, and wanted to…” she drew off, frowning thoughtfully.

“We wanted to see what all the racket was about,” the other one huffed as she rolled her eyes. “Fate runs through here so strongly that it might as well be screaming to those who know how to listen.”

“Croix, please,” the redhead said. “No need to confuse them further.”

“What do you mean, ‘fate’?” Diana asked, and once again found herself subject to the piercing gaze of the two women. Now she was certain…no mere mortal would have eyes as deep and knowing as these two had.

The one called Croix smirked. “You don’t want to know, child.” She glanced at the other woman. “Unless _you_ want to tell them, Chariot.”

Chariot glared at Croix. “You know we aren’t allowed to, not unless the proper forms are observed.”

“You know how I am when it comes to following rules,” Croix replied with an almost careless shrug.

“Yes. I _do_ know.” Chariot’s words were flat and entirely unamused. But then she was smiling reassuringly at Akko and Diana. “You two are destined for great things, and so long as you hold friendship for one another in your hearts, you will not face a challenge that you cannot overcome.” She focused on Akko. “Your bravery shall be your armor and your believing heart your sword.” Then those eyes flicked to Diana. “Let kindness guide your actions and trust in those closest to you, and you will do your family name proud.”

Akko and Diana glanced at one another, more confused by the cryptic advice than anything else. “Umm…”

The one named Croix smirked. “Now be off children, and return you home…” she said before her eyes took on a sharp and knowing glint. “Elsewise you might encounter a _real_ dragon…or something worse in these woods.”

The moment she stopped speaking, there was a gust of wind that had Akko and Diana bringing their arms up to shield their faces. Akko would say that she heard the sound of a far off flock of crows cawing, whereas Diana would swear that she heard distant hounds baying, as if on a hunt. But the wind and the sounds faded, and when they lowered their arms, the two strange women were gone, and the sounds of the forest returned.

Diana and Akko exchanged glances before they were both laughing, Diana nervously and Akko excitedly. They would heed the words of Croix and immediately return home, though Diana made Akko swear to never speak of the two women to anyone else. Speaking idly of wizards or witches would only invite trouble, and she knew enough of the stories to know that they had received a prophecy…or at least part of one. If Chariot and Croix had wanted other people to hear their words, they would have said them where other people could hear them.

Akko hadn’t been happy, of course, as she loved spinning tales and this was a tale to top them all…after all, they had met two magic users! But Diana had insisted. Her gut told her that it was best to keep it a secret between the two of them. And so, they spoke of how they had fought a dragon in the forest and saved all of Wedinburgh from its wrath, much to the amusement of their families. As they told the story of the glorious battle against the villainous beast, Diana actually felt a thrill run through her.

She and Akko shared a secret.

It made her happy that she and her closest friend in the whole world knew something that no one else did. For all the mystery of the words that had been spoken to them, of the things that lay in their future, there was one thing that made Diana happier than anything else, something that warmed her through the rest of the day and had her smiling even as she lay down in bed that night.

So long as she and Akko were friends, they would beat any challenge. Diana couldn’t help the happy squeal at the thought that escaped her as she buried her face in her pillow. Akko being her friend felt as natural as breathing, and now? Now she knew that their friendship had caught the attention of great women.

She couldn’t _wait_ to see what adventure she would have with Akko on the morrow!


	2. The Years Looming Before Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is changing around Cavendish Manor. Bernadette has received word that the youngest daughters of two of the noble families that are the very closest to the Cavendish line are now Diana's age and are old enough to receive their education. And so she let the Englands and the Parkers know that she will gladly welcome Hannah and Barbara to her home so that they might learn and become friends with Diana.
> 
> ...oh, but when is she going to actually tell Atsuko about her rapidly approaching training to become a knight? Fourteen years is a very long time, and she fears that Diana might not take the news well...
> 
> Day 2: Cuddles/Hand-holding

The Years Looming Before Them

It was only a week after their strange encounter in the woods that things changed in the Cavendish Estate. The Lady Cavendish was a Countess who regularly held council with the King. Likewise, there were many lesser noble families who viewed them as sources of advice or even protection, and part of that was shown in where they sent their children for education. It was not at all accurate to say that the England and the Parker families merely joined the other noble families…rather, it was that other noble families joined the example that the Parkers and the Englands set. Of all the noble families, these two had been friends and allies to the Cavendishes for longest, and had even been joined in that steadfast friendship well before William had sailed across the Channel with his army of Normans. While the central Cavendish line had been forced to marry amongst their direct peers for political reasons, the secondary lines of the second and third cousins and the other offshoots of their vibrant family tree often found their partners amongst the Englands from the north and the Parkers to the south.

So, it came as no surprise that Bernadette had quickly come to a decision when she was informed of the youngest daughters of those two ancient families, Hannah England and Barbara Parker. She would welcome them with open arms, and they would learn all that they would need to succeed within her halls and on her lands. It was merely a bonus that, by some small stroke of luck, they were the same age as Diana. If only her decision was made with nothing but kindness in her heart…no, there was a certain shrewdness to her choice, as well. Their tutelage would last more than a decade, and she fully hoped that they would develop a very strong friendship with Diana so that her daughter might have allies to look to once she was gone. The Cavendish kindness was not just an act of charity, and their power did not come only from the strength of their holdings, but in the fact that at their slightest request, the noble families they had created bonds with would come to their aid. Even the boldest amongst those that envied and hated them would hesitate to act openly against them, knowing that they would immediately be set upon on many fronts. And, of course, those that hungrily looked upon the lesser holdings of the minor families were not likely to seize their lands when they knew that an act of such aggression would quickly invite the righteous wrath of the Cavendishes down upon them. Strength in friendship that the weak might thrive in peace… _this_ was the true strength of the Cavendish kindness. Fostering such bonds in the sons and daughters of their families was the chief way to build that strength.

Thus, she had sent her messengers back to her oldest allies, and their return missives were overjoyed. Young Barbara and Hannah would arrive on the Pentecost, on May 28th. Diana and Atsuko were both extremely excited at the prospect of new girls their own age. Yes, there were other children that called the Manor and nearby Wedinburgh home, but the children in the Manor were borne of the servant families, and while Bernadette encouraged Atsuko’s and Diana’s friendships, even she had to draw the line somewhere, even if it filled her mouth with a sour taste. Perhaps someday the children of the lowest servants could play side-by-side with the children of kings, but that day had not yet come. The head of the household staff, Anna, was just as much a proponent of keeping that divide wide, and it was only after years of gentle teasing and prompting that she had relaxed as much as she had…she viewed societal roles as something as sacred as the Holy Text: servants must not become too comfortably familiar with those that were noble born. Bernadette knew for a fact that Anna was rather skeptical of how close Atsuko was with Diana, but she endured it with a stiff upper lip. Atsuko’s parents were artisans and fairly wealthy…perhaps not as rich as established merchant families, but they were well above many of the common folk.

In fact, Bernadette would bet an impressive sum of money on Anna being almost relieved that Diana would have true peers to befriend…it wasn’t seemly that she only call the daughter of foreign-born artisans her friend. It was merely an amusing twist that Bernadette actually agreed with the sentiment, but for a different reason: Diana would need that friendship later on. She loved that Diana and Atsuko were as close as they were, and was so very proud of who her daughter was, but she needed friends amongst her peers as well.

The day finally came, and an almost festive air gripped the estate when the outrider came ahead of the carriages and courtiers to alert the Cavendishes that their guests were only a short distance away. Anna had begun barking orders like a seasoned campaigner, directing her staff to maximum effect, and sent Akko running off with a laugh as she covered her rear to protect it from the bristles of the broom that Anna wielded like a lance. But it was not long before they were all arrayed, the servants and guards standing on the wings of the broad stairs leading up to the entrance of the manor house, while Bernadette stood behind Diana and Akko, her hands resting on their shoulders, and she smiled at how Akko was quite literally quivering with excitement even as she shifted slightly, likely uncomfortable in the ornate dress that she had been forced into to welcome the new girls in. Diana was far more demure than her friend, her hands folded in front of her, but not even she could stop from craning her head curiously as the first mounted courtiers came into view.

“I hope they’re friendly!” Akko said, almost breathless, and Bernadette chuckled.

“I doubt that they’ll be able to resist your cheer for very long, Atsuko dear,” she said, and Atsuko turned back to flash a beaming smile at her. Bernadette returned the smile even as a small twinge of guilt ran through her…she still hadn’t told Atsuko or her daughter about Atsuko’s pending training under the Baron Hargrave, and it was a month away. She knew that the girl’s parents were eager to let her know that she was leaving, but they respected Bernadette’s wish to be the one to tell Atsuko, since it was her responsibility as the Countess of Wedinburgh. They owed her that much for her kindness in accepting them when so many other lords and ladies wouldn’t have, and she respected them enough that she wouldn’t wait much longer. That did not mean that she relished the thought of telling her daughter and Atsuko that she was going to go away for fourteen years. Perhaps…perhaps at the welcoming dinner this eve.

The coachmen came to a stop in front of the broad stone steps, and the footmen leapt off their stations at the back of the ornate carriages and opened their doors, allowing the Englands and Parkers to come forth, both families lining up on the drive to present themselves before Bernadette and her family with graceful bows. Daryl and her daughters looked on as Bernadette descended the steps with a welcoming smile before she returned their bows with a fluid curtsy. “You are well come to my holdings, Viscount Parker, Baron England,” she said with nods to the two men, and once again, they bowed, these ones shorter though no less respectful than those they had greeted her with. That done, she smiled warmly to their wives and to the two girls practically hiding behind the skirts of their mothers’ dresses. “And these are your daughters?”

“Yes, my lady,” Theodora Parker said with her own warm smile. “Young Barbara…introduce yourself, dear.”

The dark haired young girl hesitated for a moment before she came from around her mother, shy teal eyes looking down at the ground as she curtsied, the movement slightly clumsy. “Pleased to meet you, my lady,” she said, the slightest hint of a lisp to her words.

“The pleasure is all mine, Barbara,” Bernadette said as she lay a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Your mother has told me that you are quite the reader. You are welcome to my library, and I’m sure you’ll become fast friends with my daughter, Diana…she loves to read as well.”

A quick and fleeting smile touched Barbara’s lips as she curtsied again. “Thank you, my lady.”

Bernadette glanced over to the Englands. “And this is…Hannah?”

“Yes, my lady. Our brave and headstrong Hannah,” Harold England said, a proud smile on his face as he gestured to his daughter. Her mother, Sophia was from Aragon and had been born in Iberia, and while her daughter shared the auburn hair of her father, her hazel eyes and slightly duskier skin was wholly from her mother.

“Oh? She has spirit?”

“At times enough for a dozen men, yes,” Sophia laughed, her accent musical. “You will have your hands full with her!”

Bernadette crouched down so her face was level with Hannah’s even as the girl almost glared defiantly at her. “Good! It is good that you have spirit, Hannah. Know that I will never try to diminish that spirit! Us ladies are strong, no?”

Hannah’s smile was brighter than Barbara’s had been, and she nodded, a determined glint in those eyes, and Bernadette laughed as she straightened. “Now, please, enough of this standing in my drive, come in, come in! You are all my guests, make yourselves at home. We shall have our welcoming feast this evening. Anna, if you could please show the girls and their baggage to their new rooms?”

Conversation and called out orders sounded as they all began to make their way into the manor, the Captain of her guards smoothly directing the household guards of the Englands and Parkers to the side so that they could coordinate the guard rotation during the visit of their lords and ladies even as Anna quickly had some of the staff collect the luggage and baggage. While the servants moved to do as she had said, she turned and bowed respectfully to Hannah and Barbara. “If you wouldn’t mind following me, young mistresses? My lady Diana, if you would?”

Bernadette watched as her daughter and the two other noble girls followed after Anna like ducklings after their mother duck, and she nodded after them when Atsuko gave her a quick, questioning glance. A brilliant smile touched Atsuko’s lips before she was scampering off to catch up to the other three, and once again, guilt touched her heart. Bernadette couldn’t shake the feeling that it almost seemed as though she was trying to replace one of Diana’s closest friends with two others…

xxxXXXxxx

Diana wasn’t quite sure what to make of the two other girls. It was so strange to think that they were going to be a part of her life for the next thirteen years, that they would be learning by her side for a long time. It had been amusing how awestruck they were with her mother…her mother was just her mother, there was no need to be so timid around her! She glanced back at them, and felt a flutter of relief run through her as she noticed that Akko had joined them. Akko had a way of becoming friends with people that Diana just didn’t have. She was reserved where Akko was outgoing…with her by her side, she didn’t doubt that she’d be able to befriend the two others more quickly than if she were alone.

Still, this was _her_ house. Thus, she took it upon herself to give a brief tour as they made their way to the wing with the bedrooms in it, pointing out the various doors that led to rooms of interest and pointing out landmarks out the windows as they passed by them. Thankfully it wasn’t all that much longer before they reached the room that the two of them would be sharing. It was about the size of Diana’s own room, so it could comfortably fit the two girls, and Diana felt her shoulders sag with relief when Hannah and Barbara didn’t object to being housed together. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had, and was glad that she wouldn’t have to find out. But then…

Hannah was the first to glance curiously back at Akko while Barbara directed (not asked…Diana made a note to speak with her later about treating the servants well) the staff where to put her stuff. “Are you one of the Golden Horde?” Hannah asked with a curious tilt of her head, and Akko merely blinked in confusion as she looked at Diana for help.

“Pardon?” Diana asked, and Hannah looked between the two of them.

“Papa said that the merchants coming from Constantinople are speaking of men on horses with eyes shaped like almonds far to the East, men who belong to a great Golden Horde and who are invading west.” Her eyes grew bright and sharp as she continued, almost breathless in her excitement. “I even heard that they’re infidels, and don’t follow the gospel! I’ve no doubt that Christendom will stand strong against them, and drive them back to wherever they came from,” she sniffed.

“I heard that they eat babies!” Barbara cut in.

Hannah whirled on Akko, who looked rather shocked. “Do you eat babies?”

“What? No! I’ve never even heard of a Golden Horde!” Akko protested.

“She’s also not an infidel, either,” Diana said, feeling a little annoyed at the two now. “Her family lives in Wedinburgh and both she and her brother were baptized, as is proper of the servants of Christ.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, almost seeming disappointed that Akko wasn’t a baby eating infidel from far to the east. Then she blinked. “Wait, you’re from Wedinburgh?”

Akko frowned defensively. “Yes, I am. What’s it to you?”

“Are you a _commoner?_ ” Barbara gasped, and Diana frowned even as Akko’s hands curled into fists. The way that she has said that made it seem like being a commoner was worse than being of the Golden Horde, and Diana was suddenly very aware of all the servants still in the room with them, all the servants that she knew and loved like family, despite their difference in station.

“A _peasant_ wearing a dress like that and speaking to a nobleborn with such familiarity,” Hannah sneered, and Akko’s face grew red as her eyebrows gathered in a furious frown.

Diana took an angry step forward, only to stop as Anna’s hands fell on her shoulders as the older woman bent down to whisper in her ear: “ _Do not fight her fights for her, young mistress, you will be doing her a disservice_.” Diana glance back at Anna and saw the firm set of her lips and knew that she was being quite serious, even if Diana didn’t understand why. But she trusted Anna, and so she bit the inside of her cheek and merely watched.

Akko had squared her shoulders and her crimson eyes glittered furiously. “This dress was a gift from Lady Bernadette herself, and I’ve been friends with Diana since we were babies!”

Barbara scoffed, coming up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Hannah. If she was trying to get Akko to back down, it wasn’t working…Akko merely shifted how she was standing so that she was facing the both of them, her hands still balled into tight fists. “You, friends with someone like Diana? My mother has read me letters from the Lady Cavendish, Diana smart and well-read like me and she is going to do great things. You would do well to remember that and keep to your station, _churl_.”

Akko sneered. “Greatness is measured by deed, not by blood. The Virgin Mary was a commoner and she gave birth to the king of kings! You would do well to remember that, _noble_.”

Hannah’s hand flashed out as she slapped Akko, and her mouth opened as if to say something, but she never got the chance, as she was interrupted by Akko’s fist striking her square on the nose. That prompted Barbara to lash out at Akko, and in seconds the three of them were well and truly fighting, just as Diana was struggling to escape Anna’s iron grasp even as Anna was ordering one of the servants to get Lady Bernadette. The man, Tobias, didn’t even waste the time that it would take to acknowledge the command before he was sprinting from the room.

“Let me go!” Diana ordered as she tried to twist away from Anna’s grip, but to no avail. Try as she might, she couldn’t get away, even while Akko fought the other two girls, giving as good as she got, the servants looking silently on.

Then came the clatter of running feet striking against the floor, and suddenly the room was filled with more adults, the Parkers and Englands and her mother bursting in, only for Viscount Parker and Baron England to curse loudly before tearing their daughters away from Akko, who had a bloody nose and a blackened eye. She wasn’t the only one bleeding…the other two had several wounds as well.

“Just what is going on here?” her mother said, voice quivering, and that more than anything else drew Diana’s attention away from Akko and towards her mother. What she saw might as well have doused her in cold water…her mother’s face was too pale and she had broken out in a sweat, whereas the others were barely winded. Her health…

“She was speaking out of her station, my lady,” Barbara said as she wiped at the trickle of blood that was coming from her nose, only stopping when her mother produced a handkerchief and pinched her nose with it.

“This one is a commoner?” Viscount Parker asked, voice like the rumble of a distant storm.

“She is, yes.” Bernadette’s words were measured and strong, in contrast to the cast of her face.

“I demand she be punished,” Baron England growled. “She is young yet, so perhaps a light sentence of time in the stocks might correct her.”

“No!”

All the adults in the room turned to look at Diana, who flushed at the sudden attention. She hadn’t even meant to say the word, it had come bursting out of her, but the thought of Akko being sent to the stocks…it was unthinkable! “Pardon, young lady?” Baron England asked, words clipped, and Diana drew in a deep breath.

“My lords England and Parker, I am witness to what happened, and Ak…err, Atsuko Kagari was sorely provoked and she was struck first. She was defending herself.”

The adults glanced at one another. “Oh?” Viscount Parker asked even as her mother sighed and went to tend to Akko, who was pinching her own nose as her eye swelled up. “And who was the one to strike first?”

She almost said it, the name beating at the back of her teeth before she caught herself. It had actually been Akko herself who had said that ratting out a friend or a peer was a betrayal of the worst sort, and so Diana squared her shoulders and met Viscount Parker’s gaze. “I will not say, my lord. Hannah, Barbara, and Atsuko may have come to blows, but it was my fault for not explaining to your daughters how we act here in Cavendish Manor. Atsuko is a friend of mine, though a commoner. We treat our servants like family and care for them dearly. Kindness is the Cavendish creed, and that kindness is not reserved only for those of noble birth.”

Once more the Parkers and the Englands glanced at each other, though Diana also noticed the small, proud smile that touched her mother’s lips as she continued to tend to Akko. Then some of the tension seemed to leave the room, and Viscount Parker sighed. “The Cavendishes have shown the Parkers that friendship…we know it well. We have your word that it was an equal fight, that they came to blows at the same time?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Her mother straightened and she came to stand behind Akko, her face slightly troubled as she rested her hands on Akko’s shoulders. “I had originally planned on announcing this at dinner, but I see now that it is as good a time as any. Young Atsuko here isn’t just any commoner. She, too, is going to reach her seventh birthday soon, and so she will be leaving us on the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul. She is going to enter into training to become a knight. I have spoken with her family, and it is our intention that she is going to become Diana’s champion, that she might protect the Cavendish honor and answer challenges on Diana’s behalf. She will only be a common knight, but she is going to be the common knight fighting for my family.” Her clear blue eyes narrowed. “Is that understood by all here?” The Parkers and Englands didn’t look particularly pleased about the announcement as they nodded, but Diana didn’t notice their discontent…how could she when she felt like she did?

Akko was leaving.

Akko had always been there, had been her friend since before she could remember. It had never occurred to Diana that Akko might leave her side. She could only stare as Akko’s face lit up, could only watch as her mother smiled down at her friend who was going away. In that instant, it felt like the world had been swept out from under her feet and she had to concentrate on not making a sound, on not moving, for fear that she would be unable to keep standing if she did. Akko…was leaving.

But then a beaming face and bright crimson eyes turned on her, and Diana was able to push past her own shock so that she could smile in return. Despite the shocked pain that still gripped her, she knew that this was an opportunity like no other for Akko. This would give her a future unlike anything she could have ever hoped for, a chance to truly be the knight that she often pretended to be when they were playing with the other children or while they were exploring the woods together. Akko had the heart of a knight, and Diana’s mother was giving her the chance to truly be one.

Yes, Akko was going to leave, Diana realized as her smile grew more and more genuine. She would be sad and miss Akko terribly while she was gone, but Akko was going to come back, and once she did, they could be friends once more. And no one would dare question why her own champion was by her side. This wasn’t just a gift for Akko, it was a gift for Diana as well. They would just have to get past the long absence that would come with Akko’s training. But Diana knew that she would endure that and more if it meant that Akko keep smiling like that.

By the time that Akko and Hannah and Barbara got cleaned up (and apologized properly to one another, rather grudgingly at that) and dinner began, the shock that had first gripped Diana was almost completely gone. Instead, her mind wandered to what it would be like, fourteen years in the future, when Akko finally came home a knight, came home to Wedinburgh and to her. She wished that she could blink away the years, but she had her own education and training to see to. She and Akko would change much in the years looming before them.

Speaking of her education…she was joined not just by Hannah and Barbara, but also by Akko. The other two girls seemed annoyed by her presence, but her mother had insisted. Akko had listened in on some few lessons before and knew more proper manners than most of her peasant peers, but she was still short of where she needed to be prior to her training. A knight was expected to be able to read and write in English, French, and Latin, as well as knowing basic maths and rhetoric and astrology. While much of her education would take place when she was a page and squire, she still needed to know the basics, and she had quite a bit to learn before she was ready to even be a page.

To Diana’s surprise, Akko took to the learning with a passion. It was that more than anything else that settled some of Diana’s doubts, as minor as they were. She knew from listening to nobles speaking to her mother that becoming a knight would require focus and hard work…for Akko to show both these things in abundance for something that she cared so little for as schooling showed that she was determined to become Diana’s champion.

The downside to all of it was that it seemed like every minute of the day was occupied, from the moment they woke up in the morning to when they put their heads down to sleep at night. Learning with the tutors, being taught manners by Diana’s mother, memorizing their prayers from Father Godfrey, helping the servants around the manor…to say nothing of getting Hannah and Barbara settled in to life at the Cavendish Estate. It seemed as though every time Diana so much as blinked, a day passed by, and while she was making more fond memories with Akko than ever before, she wished that time would slow down. It was all going by far too quickly!

But time slowed for no man, woman, or child, and soon it was Akko’s birthday, which she spent most of with her family in Wedinburgh, where she stayed for the next few days so that she could give her proper farewells to her brother and father and mother and her friends from within Wedinburgh. Diana missed her sorely then, missed her energetic presence by her side, missed the pranks that she and Hannah played on one another, missed how she teased Barbara for carrying around a well-read book of tales from yesteryears. She wasn’t truly friends with the noble girls, but they weren’t openly hostile towards one another, and they all gave as good as they got…to the point where Hannah actually admitted that she missed Akko a little, and Barbara had hesitated a moment before nodding.

Then it finally came. The day before the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul. Akko was going to leave from the Cavendish Manor, and so she came with what few belongings she was bringing with her on her training, her family with her. She would be staying the night before leaving in the morning, and the Lady Cavendish was giving a banquet in honor of the Kagaris allowing their daughter to become a knight. Aunt Daryl was obviously not happy about it all, but the worst of her ire was soothed when it was made clear that the food being offered was not the rich food of the nobles but instead food that the peasants would be more used to, just expertly prepared and in large quantities. It seemed like half of Wedinburgh came calling to congratulate Akko and thank the Lady Cavendish for all that she had done. It was a happy day that ended too soon.

Diana couldn’t fall asleep that night. She couldn’t get the thought of Akko leaving out of her head. She had long accepted that it was going to happen, that it was the best thing for Akko on so many levels, but that didn’t mean that she was able to put it out of mind.

The sun had long set and the moon had risen to bathe the grounds in her silver light when Diana’s door opened with a slight creak, and she sat up to see Akko standing at the threshold in her nightgown, her dark hair unkempt. “I’m scared,” came the soft admission that carried across Diana’s dark bedroom, and she didn’t hesitate to lift her blankets welcomingly.

Akko came scampering to the bed before she clambered into it, her feet cold and her knees and elbows sharp as she settled down. Oh, when was the last time that they had shared a bed? Had it really almost been a year since Akko boldly claimed to be scared of the thunder that had set Diana to shivering as it had boomed and roared? “You’re scared?” Diana whispered quietly.

“And excited and happy and worried and so much more, but yes. I’m scared. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

Diana hummed softly before she sighed heavily, feeling the sleep that had eluded her coming. Her eyes growing heavy, she wrapped her arms around Akko, hugging her close. “I’m scared, too,” she murmured. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t let those two bully you.”

A soft chuckle as sleep started to settle over her like a heavy blanket, the soft rasp of Akko’s breath putting her at ease. “Of course not.” A thought fluttered at the edge of her consciousness. “You’ll write?”

“Once my handwriting doesn’t look like a chicken scratch in the dirt, yes.”

There was a long pause, their breathing slowing and deepening as they drew strength and comfort in the arms of their closest friend, the fears and worries from before being chased away in the face of the bond between them. Diana would fall asleep first, and it wasn’t until after she started snoring ever-so-slightly that crimson eyes cracked open. Akko gazed at her for a long moment before she carefully threaded their fingers together, and Diana murmured softly in her sleep as her fingers tightened slightly around Akko’s. With a fond and gentle smile, Akko spoke, her voice scarcely loud enough to even be called a whisper. “I’m going to be the best knight for you, Diana…I promise.” The moment the words left her lips, her eyes slid shut and she sighed happily, letting herself fall into slumber.

And a good thing, too…tomorrow was to be a _very_ busy day for her!


	3. The Joys of a Rainy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the long fourteen years that separated them, Diana and Akko never got the chance to meet one another, but that was not to say that they did not converse. Quite the opposite, in fact, as they sent each other countless letters, letters that they would be cherish and treasure. 
> 
> And what better way to spend a rainy day than to read the letters of your dearest friend?
> 
> Day 3: Rainy Day

The Joys of a Rainy Day

It was raining.

Diana came awake to the sound of raindrops striking against the leaded glass panes set in her window, and she lay there in bed for a moment, breathing in deeply as she took the moment to bask in the grey light of the rainy sunrise. Then her lips quirked in a small smile. When she was just a young girl, she would have wished for the rain to go away, for she had not particular enjoyed getting yet, and as the daughter of a known healer, she knew that with each heavy rain came sickness of the chest and lungs. But the older she got, the more she grew to appreciate the rain. Rain brought needed nourishment to crops, kept the rivers fed, replenished water barrels and allowed children to play in puddles, much as Akko had done before she had left a decade ago.

Rather than a sad frown, the thought of Akko now on this rainy morning brought a smile to her lips. After all, while the rain made the farmers happy because of their crops and the millers happy because the rivers turned their mill wheels, the rain made her happy because the rain meant Akko. Or rather, it meant Akko’s letters.

Oh, Akko’s letters! She saved every last one of them that she had ever received, from the first one that came when they were both eight and was quite honestly near illegible given how terrible Akko’s handwriting started out as to the one that had only just received a few weeks ago. She kept them in a thick stack in her closet, and while she read them the moment that she got them, rainy days meant more downtime, which meant more time to read and reread the letters that her dearest friend had sent her.

Getting dressed for the day didn’t take too long, and after making sure that her wimple was set properly on her head, she headed out into the corridor and made her way to the main hall. Her mother was already in attendance, and worry gnawed slightly at Diana at the sight of the sunken cheeks and pronounced bones on her exposed wrists and hands, but for all that her body was weak, Bernadette’s eyes were still sharp as they had ever been. The Lady Cavendish was speaking to a messenger who was fairly splattered head to toe in mud, and when she noticed Diana entering the expansive room that she did most of her business in, she waved Diana over. Diana strode over with a graceful confidence, returning the man’s respectful bow with a smooth curtsy. “Mother,” she murmured respectfully as she curtsied in greeting, and Bernadette smiled and nodded in reply.

“Master Hawke here has reported that the roads are closed for being too muddy. It’s been raining since last night. It seems as though Sister Bridgette will not be joining us today to tutor you.”

Diana was careful to not let the joy that she felt at the news show on her face. “That is most unfortunate, mother.”

Bernadette’s smile was knowing. “Yes, of course. Most unfortunate, indeed.” She shifted in her chair slightly. “I expect you to continue your studies. If you would go over the lessons you learned in the past week with Hannah and Barbara, it should give you a better understanding of the goings on in the Holy Roman Empire.”

Where many might have grimaced at the task (for it was nearly impossible to keep track of the many, _many_ princedoms and duchies that belonged in that loose conglomeration) Diana actually truly looked forward to it. She found it all fascinating, and had already memorized most of the noble and royal families of that area. Knowing the various family lines was important, after all…knowing who owed allegiance to whom meant being able to navigate the often treacherous world of nobility. Now if only Hannah and Barbara would give their studies as much attention as Diana did. “Yes, mother, I will be more than happy to do so.”

Her mother looked at her for a moment before she gently smiled. “Perhaps after the midday meal. Break your nightly fast and see to you chores. I daresay it’s been some time since those girls have had the chance to sleep in, and we wouldn’t want to ruin that for them, now would we?”

Diana laughed. “Of course not, mother. Thank you.” She gave another curtsy before heading towards the small dining room just off the kitchens that they used when they weren’t giving a banquet or opening their manor to the poor of Wedinburgh. If anyone were to ask her what her porridge tasted like that morning, she wouldn’t have been able to say. She was too concentrated on eating as fast as she could so that she could see to her chores. Those, too, she completed in record time (though to careful standard…Anna would almost gleefully send her to redo her work if she didn’t do it well) before she almost ran back to her room, a broad grin on her face as she opened her closet, pulling out the thick sheaf of parchment. Bringing them over to her desk, she settled down in her chair before taking the one from the top, eyes eagerly devouring the words scrawled across the parchment.

 _Dear Diana, you would_ not _believe what happened today…_

xxxXXXxxx

It was raining.

Akko’s eyes opened up to hear the steady, rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the roof of the leather tent that she and the other squires and pages of Sir Alric shared. The crack in the flaps at the tent’s entrance showed that it was still the dark of predawn outside, and she lay in her cot for a moment, breathing in the scent of grass, of mud, and of iron and oil that she had grown so used to this past decade. Rain meant rust and mud and hard travels and wrestling with grumpy horses who responded to the gloomy weather by being more misbehaved than usual. Rain had her fellow trainees grumbling, especially when they were in the field as they were this day.

But her?

The sound of the rain hitting the tent brought a smile to Akko’s face. After all, rain meant Diana.

Or rather, it meant the letters that Diana had sent her for years and years, letters written in that graceful, looping script that spoke of elegance and training and intelligence. Script that was a far sight better than Akko’s own handwriting! It still looked like chicken scratch, unless she took her time to carefully write, like when she was writing reports to higher ranking knights. Oh, how Sir Alric had boxed her ears when she had last sent a letter to Lord Kendric that she had rushed, resulting in something that only someone who was very familiar with her handwriting could decipher. Diana would have been able to read it. Akko was sure of that. After all, no matter how badly Akko wrote a letter to Diana, the reply always spoke of things that Akko had written about. Diana knew how to read her writing, and that was all that truly mattered to Akko.

She had been made fun of, of course. No matter what, she brought the letters that Diana had sent her with her, even when packing space was a premium. Even now, they occupied a place of honor in her small travel chest, a thick stack of parchment that she kept very careful track of. That had actually been the one time that she had truly gotten into a fight with her seniors. Three years ago, some of the older squires had gotten a hold of Diana’s letters, and Akko had immediately attacked them. Despite there being three of them and them being bigger than she was, she was able to get Diana’s letters back. She had curled protectively around them as the three older squires retaliated, and she had endured their beating for a few very long moments before Sir Alric had come to investigate the commotion. They were all punished, of course, the older squires for stealing the private belongings of another trainee and Akko for not fighting back anymore once she had secured the letters. A knight, after all, did not stop fighting until the enemy was defeated.

But afterwards, hours after the fight was broken up, he spoke to her privately, saying that he was impressed with how well she had handled herself in the fight against the more experienced squires. Akko might not be as technically skilled as the others, but she more than made up for it with ferocity and spirit both. Akko would never be able to prove it, but she was also certain that he had taken the other trainees he was responsible for and made it very clear that no one was to make fun of her for her letters, nor were they to try and steal them again, as from that point forward her peers never made any mention of her letters.

That was three years ago. Now? Now she lay quietly in her cot, thinking about the day that lay ahead. They were travelling to York to attend a hastilude, where Sir Alric hoped to win honor and glory, but the event wasn’t for a week yet and they were only four days away from the city. If the roads were bad, then he might elect to stay at their location one more day. They had provisions aplenty, and traveling along a muddied road might result in injury or strain to one of the horses.

The crack in the tent flap had started to go from a deep, dark black to a grey. The sun was rising. Listening to the snores and heavy breaths of her fellow squires, she carefully sat up in her cot and swung her feet over the side. She quickly pulled on her hose, tying them to the belt holding her braies up and found her turn shoes, grimacing slightly as she pulled the slightly damp leather over her feet. Standing, she grabbed her cloth coif and pulled it on over her short hair before quietly leaving the tent. Then it was a simply matter of taking some kindling and lighting it with the embers of last night’s fire. A quick touch to the iron pot that had been resting directly on the coals showed it to still be hot, and she nodded, satisfied as she hoisted it up by several links in the chain that suspended it over the fire that hissed and sputtered with the rain that was hitting it. It wouldn’t go out, and the pottage in the pot should still be good.

She ducked back into the tent and went about, shaking awake the pages, giving them their instructions for the morning, mainly seeing to the horses and tending to the food and fire. Their campsite slowly started to come awake, and there was the murmur of soft conversation and the whinnies and neighs of horses when two of the man-at-arms that were accompanying them on the journey came in from their evening watch, and Akko spooned up two bowls of the pottage, offering the food to the men as they sat around the fire.

“Quiet,” Balion said before he blew on the steaming food.

“As it should be,” Eric agreed as he started to eat.

The flap to the small tent belonging to Sir Alric opened, and he stepped out, already dressed in his gambeson, sword belted around his waist and he peered squinting up into the heavily overcast skies. He then glanced around his camp, eyes lighting on Akko. “Squire, walk with me,” he ordered and Akko immediately stood, taking only a moment to secure one of the spears before moving to join the knight, who frowned at her tunic. “You should at least be wearing a gambeson, Akko,” he chided gently, and she grinned cheekily back at him.

“I’m fine as of yet, Sir Alric,” she replied, and he sighed heavily.

“You do realize that both Baron Kendric and Countess Cavendish would flay me alive if you caught sick?” he asked as they walked along the short path leading to the main road they had been traveling along.

That was enough to kill Akko’s grin, and she bowed her head contritely. “Yes, Sir Knight, I will correct it once we return to camp.”

“Mmm. Might not have to,” he murmured absently as they reached the road, and he peered thoughtfully up and down the muddy way. “How deep?”

Akko took a few steps forward, careful to not actually step directly into the mud itself, and she pushed the butt of her spear into the soupy mess of the road before withdrawing it, eyes looking at the mud on the wooden shaft. “Two spans of the hand, Sir Knight,” she reported.

“I figured as much. Ah, well, that’s why we left with several days to spare. Come, let’s return.” As they walked back down the path, he glanced knowingly at her. “I daresay that after your morning chores and prayers, you should work on your reading and writing.”

The grin on her face was brilliant. “Yes, Sir Alric, of course!”

He laughed, and once they returned to the now fully awake and bustling camp, he returned to his tent where one of the pages would bring him his breakfast. Akko saw to her tasks, her hands confident and fast as she inspected the horses’ tack and barding before she switched to scouring Sir Alric’s mail with a wire brush, removing the rust that had come with the rain before she put more oil on the iron links. Then she was giving her morning prayers (at least abridged versions thereof but she figured that God could forgive her just this once) before she was excitedly lighting the candle by her cot and opening her travel chest and removing the sheaf of parchment from within. Lying down on her cot and a broad smile on her face, she tilted the parchment so that it was illuminated by the candle’s light before she started reading the graceful script before her.

_Dear Akko, I am glad to hear that Sir Alric praised your accomplishments in your last practice bout with training sword…_

xxxXXXxxx

Such was how Akko and Diana kept in touch during the years that separated them. What was most amusing about it all was that while both of them shared the same love of rainy days, they never once mentioned it in the letters between them. Neither knew that the other looked forward to the days that the heavens opened up in downpour just as much as she did and for the very same reason, that they would spend the day reading and rereading the words that the other had written. Some day in the future after they were reunited once more they would speak of how they spent those rainy days and find the fact that they both did the same thing to be positively delightful, just one more sign of how close they truly were.

But for now, all they could do was take comfort in the letters they yearned and hoped for. More than once they would both stand by a window or along a battlement, gazing hopefully down a road, praying that this day was the day that the herald or messenger would appear, bearing the latest letter from the other, a letter that might contain the hopes and fears and dreams of the writer. They found an easy intimacy in their letters, saying things to each other that they would not dare speak aloud, and it was that intimacy that allowed their bond with each other to only grow and strengthen even in the face of the miles and years that kept them apart.

And so it was that finally, after fourteen long years and on the eve of her knighting ceremony that Akko received the final letter that Diana would send her before they were reunited, the one that gave her pause as she opened it, crimson eyes widening as they stared at the greeting, the very first to bear _those_ words:

_My dearest Akko…_

She paused then, eyes sliding shut as she smiled, holding the letter to her chest, letting the surprised elation lift her up. ‘ _My dearest Akko…_ ’ Her journey back to Cavendish Manor was to begin on the morrow, and she would be knighted in the presence of the woman who she would be sworn to serve and defend, a woman who she knew like no one else. The woman who had addressed this final letter _thus!_

Anticipation fluttering in her gut, she pulled the letter away from her chest, crimson eyes once more finding that wonderful greeting:

_My dearest Akko…_


	4. Their Long Awaited Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day has finally come. After fourteen long years spent apart with nothing more than letters to keep in touch. Diana has not been so excited in many, many years. However, does she truly understand what it means for Akko to be her Champion? How is her life going to change now that Akko is coming home?
> 
> Day 4: AU (this whole story is an AU so this is just a continuation thereof, haha)

Their Long Awaited Reunion

To say that Bernadette was amused by her daughter’s demeanor was a gross understatement. It had even gotten to the point that she was almost tempted to ask if Diana had a coal from the fire in the seat of her braies, for every time she so much as sat down she almost immediately stood back up to continue pacing around whatever room she was in, her hands nervously smoothing out the fabric of her dress. Bernadette could not recall a single time that Diana had been so flustered…she greeted peers coming to visit with the same level-headed grace that she used on all matters of state. No man or woman seemed able to shake her unflappable demeanor, and yet Atsuko Kagari did.

“Diana, dear,” she said from where she was standing by a table covered with herbs, laughter in her voice, “you do realize that this is just Atsuko, yes?”

“It’s not _just_ Atsuko,” Diana retorted with an exasperated tone as she continued to pace back and forth across the room. “It’s Akko coming _home_. She’s been gone for so long, but she’s finally ready to come back home to us, to Wedinburgh and Cavendish Manor.”

“Come back to be your champion,” Bernadette reminded her daughter gently, wondering not for the first time if her daughter had given thought to what that truly meant. The Astuko that her daughter had known years ago was not the Atsuko that was going to be arriving this day. Diana hadn’t been the only one to receive letters during Atsuko’s absence; Bernadette had been receiving regular letters from Baron Kendric and Sir Alric about how the knight-to-be was doing in her training. Headstrong, impulsive, quick to come to judgement about something, and more stubborn than an ass…but also true and brave and fearless, and when she decided to do something, she would do it, and if there was one thing that the young woman was wholly focused on, it was being the champion of the heiress of the Cavendish name. Bernadette wasn’t certain that Diana truly understood what Atsuko being her champion meant, but according to the letters that she had received, Atsuko _did_ and she was ready to perform her duties.

Diana waved her hand in a way that might be considered dismissive, and Bernadette arched an elegant brow that Diana was too distracted to notice. “Yes, she’ll be my champion, but she’s still coming home,” she said, almost as though she hadn’t said the same sentence over and over and over this past month.

Bernadette huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head as her hands sorted through the plants before her. Her hands that were growing weaker by the day…her hands that she wondered whether they were strong enough to make it through some of the days she faced. Mmm. Well, she only had to be stronger for only a few months more, at most. Then she could rest. “Yes, she’s coming home,” she agreed with Diana before turning a soft, happy smile on her daughter, admiring the smart, beautiful woman she had become. “Now, come, help your mother sort these herbs. If you don’t stop pacing you’re going to wear a track in the floor.”

Diana looked a bit sheepish at that, but she came over and joined Bernadette at the table where a comfortable silence descended upon them as they grouped the herbs together, tying the stems together with twine so that they could be hung around the various rooms of the manor later so that their fragrance could augment the smell of the fresh rushes that had been spread across the manor floors yesterday. No words were spoken. But then, no words needed speaking as they basked in that warm, loving silence that they shared with one another.

And then, the moment that Diana had been waiting and hoping for: Anna knocked on the door, opening it before sticking her head into the room. “My ladies,” she said with all the solemnity that she would give the king, though she couldn’t hide the amused glint in her eyes at how Diana perked up. “They’re here.”

xxxXXXxxx

It took every ounce of self-restraint for Diana to not run to the entrance of the manor, and had she been alone, she very likely would have. But she couldn’t very well run ahead of her mother, and so she took a deep and calming breath before matching her mother’s sedate pace. Even though she did match that pace, she couldn’t help but fidget as she wondered what Akko looked like. She had no idea, and surely Akko had changed over the years as much as she had. The little girl in her mind’s eye couldn’t be who Akko was, and all it would take to see her oldest, dearest friend once more was to reach the entrance. But her mother was walking so…bloody…slow!

It wasn’t until she sighed impatiently that she heard the soft snicker next to her, and she turned incredulous eyes on Bernadette, her wimple rustling slightly as she caught sight of the teasing gleam in the blue eyes that matched her own. “Mother!” she gasped, actually feeling betrayed in that instant, and Bernadette laughed lightly.

“I’m just teasing, dearest,” she said, a smile still on her face as she lengthened her stride, moving faster now. “Atsuko will still be there no matter how long it takes for us to get there.”

Diana was a lady, and ladies did not groan. That said, she came very, _very_ close to doing so. “You’re mean,” she accused, and again her mother laughed as she lay a thin, bony hand on Diana’s elbow.

“And you’ll survive, dear.”

Diana hummed at that, the noise not at all convinced, but then they came around the final corner, the guards at the entrance standing to and opening the heavy oaken doors as the two of them drew closer. Beyond the entrance and standing in the yard in front of a small herd of gaily dressed horses stood nearly a score of figures in armor and great helms, and at the sight of Diana and Bernadette, they all bowed at the waist, the links of their mail armor clinking at the movement, and Diana’s eyes roamed them, searching for the one she hadn’t seen in nearly a decade and a half. It only took a moment, for only one of their ranks did not have spurs on their feet, and their plain surcoat bore no coat of arms. The only one amongst them who was not a knight…

“Welcome, travelers all,” Bernadette called out from beside her. “You have travelled many leagues to reach us here this day. My Lord Baron Kendric, are ye present?”

One of the men straightened, and he lifted the great helm from his head, revealing a lined, craggy face that was weather beaten and rough. His nose had been broken at least once. “My Lady Countess Cavendish,” he said, his voice warm, though Diana did not miss the concern in those grey eyes as they swept over Bernadette’s too thin figure. “I am Baron Ulstan Kendric. I am present.”

“Have ye completed the task ye swore to complete, these fourteen years gone?”

“I have not yet, my Lady. I have amongst my host a squire who is trained well, but she is not yet a knight.”

“Do ye give your blessing that she be made a knight this day, with your host and my household and God bearing witness?”

“I do, my Lady. Squire Kagari spent the night in prayer and in fast, and has taken no food or drink since yesterday. Her mind and body is pure for the ceremony ahead.”

The Lady Bernadette Cavendish, Countess to Wedinburgh, came down the steps, her face solemn and her stride measured. “Present her forth.”

Baron Kendric nodded before he turned to the still bowing host. “Squire Kagari, come hither.”

Akko straightened, and her own pace showed a disciplined precision as she came to stand beside Baron Kendric.

“Your helm, squire. Remove it so that your ladies might see that it is you who stands before them this day.”

Armored hands came up to fumble briefly with the straps under the helm’s lip, and then she was lifting the helm away from her face, and Diana was only distantly aware that she was holding her breath as she stared intently at her childhood friend, eager for this first sight that she had yearned for over the years.

A tanned face, skin a golden brown, and crimson eyes that had visited Diana in dreams of their long distant childhood, eyes that blinked in the sudden brightness of the sun, eyes that turned respectively towards Diana’s mother as Akko bowed once more, the brunette hair that had escaped her mail coif in bangs that hung over only half her forehead stirring in the midday breeze. “Rise, squire,” came the distant command from Bernadette that Diana was only barely aware of, because in that instant those crimson eyes swept over to gaze upon Diana, and the very breath was stolen from Diana’s lungs at how Akko’s entire face lit up in unabashed delight.

She was so beautiful…

Diana hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected the little girl that she remembered to have turned into the person before her, the woman who bore her mail armor with an ease that spoke of strength, the woman whose face showed a quickness of thought and easy humor and confidence. The woman before her was not the child that Akko used to be, and for a moment, a jolt of something very much like fear ran through Diana as she realized that she couldn’t think of a single other person that she had ever seen that had affected her thus…and this while Akko was still girded in armor and covered with the dust of the road.

“Squire Atsuko Kagari, do ye swear to serve the Cavendish line for so long as ye shall breath, to be the champion of my eldest daughter and only child, Diana Cavendish?”

Once more those crimson eyes flitted over to Diana, now filled with a grim determination. “I do, my Lady. This I so swear.”

“Do ye swear to defend her lands and subjects and her honor against all who would bring her harm?”

Now a hint of steel in that voice that was deeper and warmer than the one that Diana had very nearly forgotten. “ _I will_ , my Lady. This I so swear.”

“Do ye swear to obey her, to honor her, and to have the strength to defy her will if it means keeping her safe?”

“I will, my Lady. This I so swear.”

“Kneel then, squire.”

Akko sank to one knee and bowed her head, and Bernadette turned to face Baron Kendric, who was holding out his sword to her, hilt first. Diana watched as she reached out one hand and grasped the well-worn handle, fingers wrapping around leather and fine chain…before she paused, a brief look of consternation crossing her face before she schooled her features, turning to the knights in attendance behind Akko and Baron Kendric. Had Diana not been watching her mother, she would not have noticed the way her mother flexed her shaking fingers, the movement fleeting as Bernadette turned her attention to the other knights. “Sir Alric, are ye present?”

One of the warriors, taller than the others, stepped forward, lifting his own helm off of his head. “I am, my Lady.”

“Ye are the knight who trained this squire to this point. It is by thy effort and toil that she has become ready to serve my family. Thus, the honor of knighting her and welcoming her into your brotherhood should be thine.”

“I am honored, my Lady.” He strode forward, grasping the hilt of Baron Kendric’s sword and drawing it from its sheath in one quick move. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and by the authority granted me this Feast of Saint John the Baptist on the twenty-fourth day of June in the year of our Lord 1250 and before all the witnesses assembled before us, I dub thee, Atsuko Kagari.” Powerful shoulders flexed, lifting the sword high before bringing it crashing down against Akko’s mailed shoulder, and she buckled slightly under the heavy blow, though no noise escaped her mouth, nor did she make a sound when he repeated the same blow to her other shoulder. “Let these be the last blows ye suffer in silence and without answer, and let no misdeed go unpunished before ye.” He glanced over his shoulder at Bernadette. “Let the kindness and humility that the Cavendishes are so well-known and respected for guide your arm and your spirit. Rise! Rise Dame Atsuko Kagari, Common Knight and Champion of the Lady Diana Cavendish!”

The look on Akko’s face as she stood to accept the brass spurs that one of the other knights presented to her on a satin pillow…Diana would never forget that look of pride and joy that shone almost brighter than the sun itself for as long as she would live.

After fourteen long, long years of training, Akko was finally a knight!

xxxXXXxxx

The banquet that followed was to be nothing short of massive, and Akko chafed at the chance to eat…after all, she was hungry after going so long without eating! The fasting and praying had been worth it, of course, but now that she had the brass spurs of a Common Knight on her feet, she couldn’t wait for the chance to silence her growling stomach. After all, she didn’t want to have any distractions when she finally had the chance to speak with Diana face-to-face after so very long apart.

Diana. Even the merest thought of just how sublimely gorgeous she was had a blush touching Akko’s cheeks as she was shown to the room next to Diana’s, the room that had been occupied by Hannah and Barbara before they had completed their schooling the previous year before returning home. Akko had actually had the chance to briefly speak with Hannah at a tournament two months ago. Akko honestly hadn’t been expecting all that much from any possible reunion with either Hannah or Barbara, as she hadn’t gotten to know them all that well before she had left on her training and they did get into that fight on the first day they had met each other…

…and so it came as something of a surprise when Hannah had merely glanced up and down her form while Akko was saddling Sir Alric’s horse. Then Hannah had nodded, almost as though to herself. “You’ll do,” she said, and Akko had merely blinked at the cryptic words before Hannah had turned and began to walk off.

“Wait, what?” she called out at Hannah’s retreating back, and Hannah had lifted a hand in a quick wave.

“Good luck in the tournament,” she called almost lazily over her shoulder, and Akko could only stare after Hannah as she walked away, feeling entirely confused about what just happened, and it wasn’t until Chester nudged her with the side of his head that she returned to her task of saddling him. That would be the only time that she would actually speak to Hannah, though she saw her sitting in the stands and watching the melee later on. The brief interaction had definitely been rather confusing. What did she mean, ‘you’ll do’? It took some time for Akko to put their short meeting out of her head. At least Hannah hadn’t seemed like she bore Akko any ill will.

A knock at the door brought Akko’s mind back to the present, and she turned, only to grin with delight. “Okaa-san, otou-san!” she cried out, the words feeling alien on her tongue, and a pang of regret ran through her heart at the realization that she would struggle to have a full conversation in the native tongue of her mother and father…she hadn’t spoken it since she was seven.

Smiling broadly, her parents came into the room, and Akko took the moment to notice that both of them had more lines on their faces and that their hair was now streaked through with grey. “We’re so proud of you!” her father said, and Akko felt her shoulders sag slightly in relief. He was speaking English.

“A knight, and in service of Lady Diana! We _knew_ you could do it.”

And just like that, Akko realized that she was crying as she was swept up into a warm embrace, their love for her unmistakable even through her mail armor and the gambeson underneath. She had been so nervous and so excited about seeing Diana again that she hadn’t realized just how much she had truly missed her parents, and so she let herself sink into their embrace, letting their love wash over her. And yet, how different it was…she was taller than even her father, and her last memory of him had been of him seeming like a man taller than a tree and stronger than the mountains and wiser than the stars…she had grown up, more than she had expected.

A politely cleared throat from the door, and the three of them broke apart to see Anna standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her face. “The banquet is about ready, Dame Kagari. If you would make your way to the hall?” Then those eyes glanced up and down her body. “Though, perhaps it would be wise if you changed out of your armor first?”

“Oh, right, of course!”

Thankfully that didn’t take all that long, the armor’s weight making it easier to take off than to put on. First came taking off her mail coif, and then she took off her sword belt and bent at the waist, shimmying slightly until her hauberk slid off to land on the floor with a jingling thump. Fingers flew down the ties of her gambeson before she was shrugging out of the thickly padded garment, and she tossed it on the bed before she was undoing the ties that kept her chausses pulled up. Once their ties were undone and she had untied the bands that she had above her knees, it didn’t take much more beyond lifting and shaking her legs for them to slide off of her legs, leaving her just in her undershirt, hose, and braies.

The fact that she was now in her undergarments in front of her parents and Anna honestly didn’t register to her. After fourteen years of training to be a knight, the idea of privacy was a luxury that she didn’t have and modesty more a curiosity than a necessity. The soft choking noise at the door had her looking up from how she was undoing the ties to her hose…this was the pair that she wore under her chausses and so they were rust stained. Seeing the _look_ that Anna was giving her had her pausing. “Yes, Anna?” she asked, honestly confused at the ire in the older woman’s face.

“Perhaps the dame would like some privacy before disrobing?” Anna asked icily, and Akko glanced down at her undergarments before looking back up to Anna.

“It doesn’t matter to me, Anna.”

Anna stared at her for a moment before turning to Akko’s parents, her face bearing a rather unusual hue. “Master Kagari, if you and your wife would not mind joining me?” she asked, and Akko’s parents gave her an amused glance before they left with promises to see Akko again at the banquet, and Akko was left alone in her room after Anna shut the door with perhaps too much force, and Akko rolled her eyes at that. Honestly, it wasn’t like she was undressing in the middle of the manor, she was in her own room!

Her stomach growled once more, reminding her of the feast that was waiting for her, and she quickly took off her rust stained hose before rooting through her luggage. Just where _was_ her nice hose and tunic? She had to be presentable for Diana, after all…

xxxXXXxxx

Diana was seated at the head table with the chair to her right empty and waiting for Akko’s arrival. She was seated to her mother’s right, and Aunt Daryl and Merril and Maryl were sitting to Bernadette’s left, and Aunt Daryl was pouring another glass of wine, spots of color on her cheeks. “So the girl made it,” she said, voice only just barely slurring from the drink she had already partaken in. “Dame Kagari. Good for her.” She scoffed, lifting the goblet to her lips, pausing at the last moment. “Now if only she could make it to her own banquet on time.”

“She’s been traveling since very early this morning and had to change out of her armor,” Bernadette said, voice weary but no less sharp for it. “A moment’s pause for her to collect herself is hardly too much to ask for.”

“A moment is one thing, but it’s been far longer than-”

“Aunt Daryl,” Diana cut in, voice soft. “She is _my_ champion. As such, _I_ will decide whether or not her tardiness is out of line.”

Aunt Daryl’s head snapped over to stare at her, not quite a glare, but after a moment she nodded. “As you wish, Diana. But bear in mind, it is not just you who is judging her. Potential foes are watching, looking for a sign of weakness. Her duty is to be beside you, not wasting time in her room.”

Truth to those words, truth that Diana acknowledged in her mind but decided not to grace with an actual answer. Aunt Daryl did not seem to care, as she returned to her wine just as the door opened and Akko entered.

Diana straightened in her chair, a blush immediately touching her cheeks. Akko’s armor had hidden her figure in the garb of war, but now as her champion glanced around the room with a content, happy smile, Diana let her eyes roam Akko’s figure. Dark grey hose, and she was wearing a rich red tunic that brought out her crimson eyes, and her cloth coif matched her hose. But it wasn’t the high quality of her clothes (gifts from Baron Kendric, Diana would discover later) that drew the eye, but instead it was the arming sword and dagger belted at her side. It was how she moved with all the powerful grace of a leopardess, lithe and strong and confident. The raw energy that she had been known for as a girl had been tempered into the gait of a knight worthy of protecting the honor of the Cavendish line. Diana…she wasn’t quite ready for this. Despite how flustered she felt, she was at least able to gesture at the chair to her right once those happy crimson eyes found her, and Akko immediately started forward, walking down the center of the room, the tables for the guests and for the commons to her left and right. Skirting around the hearth that sat in the middle of the room, she came to a halt in front of the table, left hand resting atop the pommel of her sword as she bowed at the waist.

“My ladies,” she intoned respectfully. “Dame Kagari presenting herself before you.”

“Rise, Dame, and be seated so that the banquet may commence,” Bernadette commanded gently, and Akko straightened before coming around the end of the table, and she took her seat while beaming a smile as bright as the sun at Diana. Then it was simply waiting for Father Godfrey to bless the meal, and then the banquet began in earnest, the four court musicians playing jaunty tunes popular amongst the common folk, and laughter and lively discussion cropped up as the meal began. At the head table, it was a challenge for Diana not to laugh at how voraciously Akko dug in to her food. She was aware of the huff of disgust from her aunt, but she chose to ignore it. Thankfully, as Akko’s hunger was sated, she remembered her manners and began to eat with more care.

It was at this point that it really struck Diana that Akko had finally returned, that she was really sitting next to her, and that Akko would remain by her side from this day forth. After fourteen long years spent training, Akko was well and truly _home_.

Diana straightened slightly in her chair, turning to look at her mother, and Bernadette smiled before nodding gently, giving her permission. Diana stood, stomach fluttering with nerves as she cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the revelers. “Good e’en, my lords and ladies, good folk of Wedinburgh,” she said, her voice only wavering slightly at the beginning. How was her mother able to speak in front of crowds with such ease? “As we all know, this banquet is in honor of Dame Atsuko Kagari’s return and her assumption of her duties as my champion as a Common Knight. Of course, there are limitations to her title…she cannot pass it on to any children she might bear.” And why did _that_ thought turn Diana’s stomach? The thought of Akko sleeping with any man just seemed _wrong_ to Diana, but she couldn’t put a finger on why that was… “Additionally, she is not beholden to her own coat of arms.” She lifted her hand and beckoned, and one of the servants came forth with a large package wrapped in linen held in his arms. “However, she is _my_ champion. As such, she bears the Cavendish coat of arms in my stead.”

She gestured once more and Tobias unwrapped the bundle, revealing a brand new shield on top of the bundle, and its face was emblazoned with the symbols of the Cavendish family. This part she had memorized ever since she was practically old enough to talk. “The seven golden stars of goodness and nobility alit over the unicorn of bravery…innocence…purity…healing…pride…intelligence…and joy, standing rampant on a quartered field of Argent and Azure that stands for peace and sincerity, and truth and loyalty.” She turned towards Akko who was staring at the shield with wide, awed eyes. “This shield and the surcoat bearing the Cavendish Argent and Azure underneath it are yours to bear as you represent me and the Cavendish family. Honor them as you honor me.”

Akko turned towards her, and Diana blinked at the sight of the tears brimming at the corners of Akko’s eyes. “I will,” she whispered in a soft and fervent voice, and something about how Akko had said it and how she was looking at Diana had a blush creep into her cheeks. For a moment, neither of them spoke, their eyes locked together until Bernadette coughed politely into her fist.

“Well then, as the Lady Cavendish, I gift these items to you,” she said smoothly, “and I thank your mother and father for their support of the journey you have completed in order to be sitting at my daughter’s right hand side.” She lifted her goblet. “A toast, then, to the success of Dame Kagari whilst she acts as my daughter’s champion.”

“To her success!” the crowd enthusiastically roared back, and the banquet resumed once more…

Hours later, after the feast ended and the guests staying were shown to their rooms and the people from Wedinburgh had been escorted back to the city by the Cavendish household guard, Akko was escorting Diana back to her rooms, new shield slung across her back and her surcoat bundled in her arms. They were chatting lightly about what they had been up to in the years prior, mainly the events and meetings and happenstances that hadn’t made it into their letters. It was at this point that Diana had the first realization of what it actually meant for Akko to be her Champion.

It happened almost too quickly for her to properly react, but Akko flashed her a sunny, reassuring smile as she lay her surcoat across her shoulder before she loosened her sword in its sheath. Diana had only managed to shoot her a confused look when Akko opened the door to her room and stepped into it ahead of her, head casting left and right as she strode further in so that she could see all corners of the room. Nodding with a satisfied expression, she turned back to Diana who had frozen in the hall, confused by the actions. “All clear, my lady,” Akko said brightly.

“All…what?” Diana asked as she, too, stepped into her bedroom even as Akko strode over to her bed, pulling back the blankets on it layer by layer. “Akko, what are you doing?” she asked, not quite cross but certainly getting there.

Akko merely blinked at her with wide eyes. “Checking your room, my lady. For threats?”

“Akko, we’re in Cavendish Manor, _what_ threats?”

Akko frowned slightly at that. “My lady-”

“And would you please stop calling me that?” Diana asked, exasperated at the title.

To her surprise, Akko shook her head. “While I am executing the duties of my position, I am to refer to you as ‘my lady,’ Diana. And one of the things that was drilled into me from nearly the very first day of my training is that there is _always_ a threat, and that potential enemies might take advantage of any perceived laxness in security in order to strike when we least expect it.” She gestured at the room around them. “Such as in the bedroom of your manor.” Seeing the look on Diana’s face, she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I am your Champion, my lady. I swore an oath to protect you, and I will do everything within my power to see that oath fulfilled.”

What could Diana say in response to that? Akko was seeing to her duties with a seriousness that Diana should be proud of. “Yes. Of course. Thank you, Akko, I appreciate it.” So then, why did it feel like there was a sudden distance between them, a gulf that she didn’t know how to bridge?

Akko grinned brightly, her face relieved at Diana’s words, likely because she was happy that Diana didn’t press the issue. “Very good, my lady,” she said as she moved back towards the door. “If you need anything, I’m right next door. I am in your service, my lady.”

And then Diana was alone in her room, and she stood there for a moment before she slowly started to undress for bed, wondering why it was that her heart felt so heavy at what just happened. It would take her a long time to fall asleep, and more than once she yearned for that night fourteen years ago when Akko had joined her in her bed. But her door stayed shut.

xxxXXXxxx

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and other than a slight feeling of lethargy, Diana felt well rested, and quickly got dressed with the assistance of some of the servant girls before making her way into the hall, only to draw up short. Akko was already waiting for her, wearing her gambeson and with her sword belted at her waist. Perking up as Diana left her room, Akko took off her cloth coif, revealing short brown hair that Diana couldn’t help but stare at for a moment as Akko bowed. It made sense for her hair to be shorn short, as she could only imagine that long hair could get caught in the links of her mail armor, but to actually _see_ the short hair was another thing entirely. Especially when it brought a blush to Diana’s face as she couldn’t help but think the short hair suited Akko well.

Akko straightened with a grin, putting her coif back on as she offered her arm. “Are you ready, my lady?”

“Yes, Akko, I am,” Diana murmured before she grasped the crook of Akko’s elbow with her hand, and Akko escorted her to the main hall, the servant girls following respectfully behind them. Moments later, they entered the main hall, and Bernadette looked up from where she was standing over a table with parchment and maps strewn across it, with Alfred, Captain of her Guard, standing at her side. His face lit up at the sight of the two of them, and he discretely winked as Bernadette waved them over.

“Excellent, I was just about to send a runner to collect you,” she said, and Diana frowned slightly, concern flitting through her. Was it just her, or did her mother sound so much more exhausted than she had before. Bernadette watched them, her face carefully composed as they joined her at the table, and for a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the sound of Alfred shifting slightly and Bernadette’s finger tapping on the table’s surface.

Just as Diana was opening her mouth to ask what was the matter, the doors opened once more, and Aunt Daryl and Merrill and Maril strode in, Aunt Daryl almost imperiously. They, too, came over to the table, and Bernadette gave a brittle smile as she seemed to deflate slightly. “Very good, we’re all here.” Blue eyes that hadn’t lost any of their warmth or intelligence swept past each of them in term. “I’ve news for you all,” she said before drawing in a deep breath. “I am going to abdicate my position as Countess of Wedinburgh. This next Monday, the fourth of July shall be the date of the ceremony where Diana will take my place and assume my title.” That brittle smile grew, as sharp as broken glace, a look of terrible knowledge set deep in sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. “It is better that she assume leadership of the family while I am still here to assist her in the transition of power.”

Aunt Daryl sucked in a sharp, hissing breath, but Bernadette gave a glare that might very well have cut skin at her sister, and Daryl took a shocked step back before folding her hands in front of her and bowing her head. “As you wish, Lady Cavendish,” she murmured bitterly.

“But…mother, why?” Diana couldn’t help but ask, shocked at the suddenness of the announcement, and her mother turned her now sad gaze on her daughter.

“Isn’t it obvious, dearest one? After all these years, I’m finally dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry.


	5. Her Last Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana isn't ready for this. How could _anyone_ be ready for something like this? And yet she must endure, for her subjects are depending on her to be a just and fair ruler after she assumes her mother's role. Oh, but what she wouldn't do for just one more year! What she wouldn't do for more time than she has at all!
> 
> Mother, please don't leave me, not like this!
> 
> Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Her Last Dance

All of them could only stare at Bernadette in shock. “I’m…you...what?” Diana managed to choke out, praying to Jesu and all his saints that she had somehow misheard, that her mother hadn’t just said-

“I’m dying, Diana,” Bernadette said, her voice soft and composed and somehow sounding at peace, which didn’t make any sense, how could she be at peace when Diana’s world felt like it was crashing down around her? “Oh, dearest one, please don’t look at me like that. Is this truly a surprise? You’ve seen it coming for years now.” Those blue eyes were filled with a depth that frightened Diana as they slid over to Akko, who flinched as they landed on her. “You’ve a Champion now. You won’t be alone now, after I’m gone. Dame Kagari will support you, and not just because she swore to. There is a reason why I chose her, all those years ago. The two of you share a bond that many would envy. I have faith in that bond, and fully believe that it will get both of you through what lies ahead.”

Aunt Daryl’s hands were clenched into fists. “Bernadette,” she said, voice stricken. “Has the time truly come?”

Bernadette’s eyes slid shut, and she breathed deeply, her shoulders slumping. “Yes,” she breathed, soft and slow. “I’m…tired, everyone. On some days I truly feared that my strength would fail me, that I wouldn’t be able to take that next step, that I wouldn’t take in that next breath.”

Tears were in the corners of Diana’s eyes, blurring the world. “The sword,” she croaked. “You couldn’t draw the sword, could you?” She angrily dashed the tears away from her eyes.

“No, my dearest daughter. I couldn’t. It was beyond me.”

Diana sobbed, burying her face in her hands, and then her mother’s arms were around her, holding her close. She instantly returned the heartfelt embrace, but even as she did so, her stomach lurched. Her mother…was just a shadow of the vibrant woman she used to be, wasn’t she? Diana could feel the bones of Bernadette’s ribs and spine against her arms, and it would have been easy to pick her up. She buried her face against the cloth of Bernadette’s wimple and dress, feeling the too-thin neck and shoulder underneath the fabric as she let herself cry. Was this truly the woman who had once held her in warm, strong, protective arms while singing soothing words when Diana went to her for comfort while wild storms howled outside, after she had had a terrible nightmare, or whenever she was frightened? Was this what truly remained of her mum?

“Shhh,” Bernadette crooned softly as bony, trembling hands rubbed up and down Diana’s back. “This day was always coming, dear. It is a miracle that God allowed me to remain long enough to see you turn into the wonderful woman who you have become.” Then she was drawing back, smiling at Diana, tears gathered in her own eyes as she brushed away the tears from Diana’s cheeks with her thin thumbs. “Dry those tears, Diana. If your mother has but one wish, it’s that my final time on Earth before I am called to heaven is spent well, making happy memories. Can you do that for me, dearest? Can you fill your heart with warmth and joy that you can turn to…after?”

Diana sniffled, wiping away her tears. “Yes, mother,” she whispered.

Bernadette smiled once more, the expression relieved. Then she turned to address the others. “I have already made most of the arrangements and the appropriate forms and charters have been written out. It will be a small ceremony, and we are expecting the King’s representative shortly.” A slight grimace. “Unfortunately you can expect a tax agent shortly after that, Diana, as the King will want a proper accounting of everything that lies on your land.” She huffed. “One can only hope that that will be the most difficult part of this ordeal.”

“Are you sure that this is wise?” Aunt Daryl asked, voice careful.

“Yes. I am,” Bernadette replied, none of the earlier gentleness to her words. “I have seen to Diana’s education myself. I will still be here for a while yet to help ensure that the transition of power is smooth. Diana _will_ be the next Countess of Wedinburgh, and I expect all here to follow her commands as though I had been the one to deliver them. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Very good. Now, Diana, let us get to work. The ceremony is only a few short days away.”

Diana drew in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and steeling her spirit for what lay ahead. “Yes, my lady.”

They began.

xxxXXXxxx

The worst part of it all was how cruelly slow it all was, how Bernadette wasted away over a period of weeks. Thankfully, Diana had long been groomed over her years of education to take her mother’s place. Her actually replacing her mother as Lady Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh went smoothly, and there was precious little of the disruption that often accompanied the replacement with the current ruling noble with their successor. As Bernadette had said, the ceremony that took place on the 29th of June was small and quiet, with not only a representative from the King but also the Bishop of York in attendance. There weren’t that many individuals from Wedinburgh or the surrounding villages and towns, but some few had shown up…the sheriff, some of the wealthier merchants, Father Godfrey, a few of the leading families…it truly was a quiet, subdued event, and after both she and her mother signed the various charters making the transition official, Diana realized that it didn’t feel real, that this was merely a strange dream that she couldn’t wake up from. She kept expecting to wake up in her bed, but that never happened. Perhaps some of the strange feeling had been caused by the fact that the day of the ceremony was the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, exactly fourteen years from the day that Akko had left to become a knight...

As her mother had said, the worst portion of it all was traveling across the entire county with the tax official who rode on a rude donkey and peered owlishly about him as he compared the last tax records to what was currently on the lands that they were responsible for. The man had no sense of humor, even Akko’s indomitable joy fading in the presence of his serious demeanor. Diana wouldn’t have been able to get through it all if Akko hadn’t been there by her side every step of the way, pennant with Diana’s (not her mother’s but _her_ ) coat of arms mounted on a thin lance snapping smartly on the breeze. They had been joined by Father Godfrey and a score of her household guards led by Alfred, as well as the tax collector’s own guards in attendance. Over the course of that week it seemed as though they roamed over every square inch of land across the county, the tax collector often pointing at a location with the switch he used to keep his donkey moving before asking in a reedy voice what _that_ was before riding off towards wherever he had pointed without waiting for an answer. If it wouldn’t have resulted in almost certain repercussions, Diana probably would have had Akko throw the man off the tallest bridge in her lands with a heavy stone tied to his feet. She really couldn’t stand the man…

But then, finally, they were able to return to the manor that was now _hers_ and the tax collector and his men went on their not-so-merry way after having a quick meal that she had only offered because to do anything else would have been utterly unthinkable. If it had been at all permissible, she would have sent the man off with an empty belly. Would it truly have been difficult to at least _try_ and be more pleasant?

Bernadette had laughed out loud at Diana’s complaining after she had joined her mother in the flower garden, Akko standing respectfully back and keeping a careful watch of them while they conversed. “Of course the man acts like that, dear,” she said with an entirely amused smile on her thin face as she pruned her favorite rose bush. “The man is one of the most hated individuals in the entire kingdom. The King is loved or hated given how well the kingdom does during his reign, but _no one_ likes the tax collector.” She shook her head with a coy smirk on her face. “In fact, it’s almost a game to try and get away with hiding as much as we can from such men.”

Diana blinked at Bernadette. “But…that’s lying. It’s immoral!”

Bernadette shrugged as she moved over to the other side of the bush. “As I said, it’s almost a game. He knows it’s happening. Why do you think he insisted on striking off on random directions? Why, entire villages can feign being insane so as to avoid having to pay taxes…better to not investigate closer so as to avoid catching the madness, yes?” Steady blue eyes met Diana’s gaze. “Something to keep in mind yourself, Diana. You are Countess now, it is _your_ duty to ensure that the proper amount of taxes are collected, not just for the King but also for your own coffers and granaries. We do not have it so bad as I always kept my hand as light as possible in collecting those taxes, but the common folk are smarter than they let on. The poorer, dirtier, and more miserable they can appear when nobles survey the land, the less is taken from them when tax time comes.” Bernadette’s face sobered. “That said, do not let your Aunt be involved in that process. Her tastes can be expensive, and she believes as so many nobles do that the toil of our subjects should provide for our comfort. Also, if you find your people out in this little game, be gentle in your punishment. The more they manage to trick you and the royal tax collectors, the more food and comfort they will have over the winter. So long as our debts are met, there is no shame in not noticing these infractions.”

“Yes, mother.”

Bernadette smiled at her before she suddenly paled, the grin sliding away from her face, and she stumbled slightly before Diana was at her side, Akko joining her a moment later, and they carefully guided Bernadette over to the nearest bench. “I think…” she panted, a look of pain on her face, “…that that…is enough gardening for today.” She peered up at the two of them, the specter of fear in her wide blue eyes. “Take me inside?”

It should have been more difficult to do so, but she might as well have been a waif between Diana and Akko, and they retired indoors. It would be several days before Bernadette regained the strength to go outside to her beloved garden again.

xxxXXXxxx

Diana’s relationship with Aunt Daryl grew more and more strained the weaker that Bernadette became. Her aunt made it absolutely clear that she viewed Akko as being responsible for what was currently happening to Bernadette even though it made no sense at all to do so. She refused to spend any significant time in Akko’s presence, to the point of immediately excusing herself during her time spent with Bernadette whenever Diana came to spend time with her mother, Akko trailing behind her. Of course this only served to distress Bernadette who hated to see such strife develop between her sister and her daughter, especially with how little time she had left.

Finally, after a week of ever increasing hostility towards Akko, Diana confronted Aunt Daryl after instructing Akko to keep watch over her mother while she spoke with Daryl. Everything about Daryl’s demeanor showed that she had no interest in their conversation, and the moment Diana told her to be more respectful towards Akko, Daryl laughed in her face. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she bit out mockingly, “but you cannot command me to like that _girl_.”

Diana’s face grew hot with anger. “I’m not telling you to like her. She is a knight and will be addressed as such. Am I understood?”

Daryl scoffed. “A common Knight for a common Lady. No matter what title you give her, she’s still a peasant, _my lady_.” With those words, she turned and walked off.

“I have not dismissed you!” Diana snapped at that retreating back.

Daryl smirked over her shoulder at Diana. “Then stop me, _my lady_.”

It was a good thing, then, that Akko was not present in that instant, because Diana very well might have commanded Akko to do just that. Instead she glared after her aunt as she turned the corner down the hall. _This_ would have to be addressed, and soon. But Diana couldn’t run the risk of upsetting her mother, not when she was so frail. Thus, she took a deep breath before turning on her heel and heading in the opposite direction. Thankfully she had enough time to compose herself and school her features to a calm mask before she rejoined her mother and Akko in the solar, where she found them playing chess, an amused smirk on her mother’s face while Akko frowned thoughtfully at the board as she tugged her lower lip. She was losing badly.

They both looked up at her entrance, and they both smiled at her. The two expressions could not have been more different. Her mother’s was gentle and soft. Akko’s lit her whole face up, and it was so _painfully_ obvious that Diana was Akko’s entire world for that instant, and the intensity of Akko’s expression was such that it stole Diana’s breath even as a surge of frustration roared bitterly through her. Akko could look at her like _that_ and yet there was still this damnable gulf that lay between them. Diana could understand Akko wanting to perform her duties to the best of her abilities, and she was honored by such devotion, she truly was.

…But damn it all if she wanted at least some of her friend to come back to her, wanted more of the girl that she used to know than this smile that told her as clear as day that Akko still care for her more than just as her Countess. Being Diana’s champion wasn’t just a duty for Akko, even a blind man could see that, but for all that, Akko _acted_ like she was. It was…like seeing a brilliant sunrise through a thick window. One could see it, but couldn’t feel its warmth on their skin. Having to deal with whatever this was on top of everything else…despite Akko constantly being by her side, Diana had never felt so alone.

Still, she was able to force an answering smile on her face. “I keep telling you not to play her in that,” she said lightly as she walked over to the small table they were seated at. “Not even I can beat mother at chess.” She peered at the board. “You are getting better, though.” She smirked. “Perhaps one of these days you’ll be able to beat me.” She paused a beat. “When we’re bent and old with age, of course…”

Akko petulantly stuck her tongue out at her, and just like that they were six years old again. “It won’t take _that_ long, Diana, just you wait and see!”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Diana teased her, and Bernadette laughed at their antics.

“Never change, you two,” she said, mirth sparkling in her sunken eyes. “Now, don’t think that you’ve distracted me, Atsuko. You’ve still a game to finish.”

Akko groaned heavily but still returned to the game, and Diana laughed behind her hand at it all. Oh, if only this moment could last forever!

But all things must come to an end, didn’t they?

xxxXXXxxx

It was the thunder that woke her, pulling her out of her sleep with its loud booming roar, and she sat up in her bed, staring out the window with wide eyes as rain lashed angrily against the panes of glass. A brilliant flash, and she shivered as her knees came up to her chest. She had long gotten over her childhood fear of thunderstorms, but that didn’t mean that she _liked_ the storms either. Shivering slightly under her blankets, she lay back down, turning her back to the window as she tried to find a comfortable spot in her bed. But try as she might, she could not fall asleep, and after several thunderclaps had boomed against the walls of the house, she sat up, frowning as her heart started to pound in her chest.

Something was wrong.

She would never be able to say how she _knew_ that there wasn’t something right in that instant, but she did, and so she threw her covers back and put on her shoes. She only paused to grab the ornate but still entirely functional dagger from the nightstand beside her bed before she was in the hall, not caring that she was still in her nightgown. Heart up in her throat, she almost ran to the door to her mother’s room, wrenching it open.

Her mother’s bed was empty.

For a moment, she stood in shocked horror, staring at that empty bed. Where was her mother? Where could she have gone?! Panic welled in her breast, threatening to squeeze her lungs tight so that she wouldn’t be able to breathe, and for a terrible moment, she stood, gasping and choking in the hall before a spark of defiance blossomed in her heart.

No! She was a Cavendish, she would _not_ succumb!

Look at it logically. It is the middle of the night, there is a storm outside, where would…?

Diana was moving, now truly running, and she leapt down the stairs two and three at a time, past the great hall where the servants slept around the open hearth in the middle of the room, and then down and out the back door that led to the gardens.

There, standing amongst the rose bushes with a broad burlap sheet in her bony hands and looking like a ghost with her drenched white nightgown and her sharp cheeks and sunken eyes, was Bernadette.

“Mother!” Diana cried out as she ran out into the rain, and Bernadette started slightly before lifting her head to look at Diana, rain running off the too sharp angles of her face.

“Oh, Diana, you’ve come out. Here, help me with these bushes, it’s raining hard enough that they might be damaged.” Her voice was so calm and so matter of fact, and Diana’s heart wrenched in her chest.

“These damned bushes aren’t worth more than your life, mother! You’re soaked to the bone, what are you _thinking_?!”

And why did Bernadette look like a contrite child as she stared at Diana with wide blue eyes, her hair plastered against her scalp and the sides of her face? “Diana, these bushes will outlast me…or at least they will if we cover them.”

Diana screamed in rage at that, snatching the burlap from Bernadette before roughly throwing it over the bushes. “Get inside this instant!” she ordered, voice trembling with emotions that she couldn’t decipher, not right now.

But Bernadette didn’t move, instead staring at Diana for a moment before she tilted her head back, closing her eyes as the rain struck her face. A flash of lightning threw the angles of her face into sharp relief. When she spoke, her voice was distant and wistful. “Your father and I used to love dancing in the rain.” She lifted her hands as though she was with an invisible dance partner, and she took a few steps, whirling in the rain, soaked nightgown spinning slightly around her before she stopped, arms lowering slowly. “I…can’t feel him. Not anymore. Not like I used to.” Hollow blue eyes turned to stare at Diana. “I’m tired, dearest one. Please take me inside.” Her hands were frail and as cold as ice when Diana grasped them, bringing her mother back into the manor.

Bernadette would grow ill by the next morning, a heavy cough and fever consuming her, sending her into a heavy delirium that nothing could pierce, and two days after that, she passed. It happened so quickly that it took the entire household and the county beyond by complete surprise, none more so than Diana.

She never got the chance to properly say goodbye…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, everyone...there was definitely more emphasis on the hurt than on the comfort in this one...


	6. "Follow Your Stars..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana has never felt so alone in her life. Despite being surrounded by others, they all feel like they are standing at a distance, unable to gulf the chasm that surrounds her. But she has her duties as Countess to fulfill. She tries her best, but feels her mother's absence with every choice she makes. Would Bernadette agree with her decision? Would she be proud? What words of wisdom would she have had to help mold Diana into a better ruler?
> 
> Then she sees a white crow, and then remembers words spoken to her in the woods, more than a decade ago...
> 
> Day 6: Space/Stars

“Follow Your Stars…”

The funeral for the late Lady Bernadette Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh was held on the 15th of August, ten days after her death, and Diana wasn't sure what to make of the fact that her mother was laid to rest on the day honoring the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. She was not deaf to the murmurs that her mother might even be canonized, but she very carefully didn't think about that. She didn't want Saint Bernadette Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh. She wanted her mother back. But that was impossible, and it was up to her to attend to her mother's funeral, which was the largest in living memory for those who lived in Wedinburgh and the surrounding counties. She had touched so many other lives while living and had made countless friends and allies, all of whom did all that they could to give their final farewells before she was to be laid to rest in the Cavendish Crypt. Even King Henry III came to pay his respects, something that had been unexpected. It was merely a matter of luck that he was travelling nearby to muster support for his crusade, and upon learning of Lady Bernadette's death, he had travelled to Wedinburgh. Even now, he lingered by the dais in Wedinburgh Cathedral that her body had been laid atop for a long moment, head bowed as if in prayer, no others by his side as he stood by the body of the woman that he had so often sought advice from.

Then he was stepping away, and he turned to where Diana, Daryl, Merrill, and Maril were standing, Akko standing just behind and to Diana’s right, a silent figure of support during this trying time. They all bowed respectfully as the King drew close. “Your mother was a magnificent woman,” he said, voice heavy with grief. “She will truly be missed by many. Lady Cavendish, should you need anything, I will do what I can to assist.”

 _I want my mother back, hearty and hale…or at least here long enough so that I can say goodbye to her and know that she heard me,_ Diana thought but did not say. “Yes, your majesty,” she managed to murmur, voice faint but carefully respectful, even as she recognized that any such promise from his majesty did not carry as much weight as it once had. She was not deaf to the murmurs of discontent from the other barons and counts of England. After all, his majesty had lost an expensive war against the French just eight years ago, and in the aftermath of that short conflict, the king had encouraged his relatives in the Lusignan family as well as other nobles from Poitou to move to England. This wouldn’t be an issue, save for the fact that the king was very generous with handing out estates, often at the expense of English born nobles. Diana was lucky in that her own family and holdings had been spared thus far, but that did not mean that her peers did not have valid grievances against the crown and that there was a great deal of dislike between the native Savoyards and these foreign Poitevins.

Add in the fact that unrest in Wales was growing once more and there was talk of strife in Scotland following the death of the Scottish King Alexander II. His son, King Alexander III, was only nine years old and was expected to marry the ten year old Princess Margaret next year. King Henry was now also known for making threats and promises and then not taking action to fulfill his words. All this and more Diana knew, but did not let show on her face, for fear of drawing his majesty’s ire.

The King nodded at her words, seeming pleased with them. “The Kingdom has lost one of its best. She had high hopes for you, Lady Cavendish. She was very proud of the woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

He departed shortly after that, and it wasn’t very much longer after that that Daryl spoke, voice soft and venomous. “I wonder if his majesty would be so genial if he knew the truth.”

Diana’s teeth grit together even as she kept the respectfully mournful mask on her face, if only for her mother’s sake. She wouldn’t want for the many people who came to say farewell to wonder why the new Lady Cavendish looked furious at her mother’s funeral. “And what truth would that be, Aunt Daryl?” she asked, voice tight.

“That the only reason my sister is dead now and not later, after I had the chance to properly say goodbye to her, is because of your negligence.”

Diana’s nose flared with anger, the skin around her eyes tightening, and it was a struggle to keep composed. “You are not the only one who did not get to say goodbye, Aunt Daryl,” she bit out.

“And you don’t deny it. Interesting.”

“I…” Diana started, before growing quiet, the guilt flaring up as Daryl’s words truly sank in. Perhaps if she had done something different, if she had known about the storm, if she had just been a better daughter, then perhaps her mother would still be alive.

A warm, firm hand grasped her elbow, and her head turned to the side to see Akko now standing by her side, her face set with determination. “We all mourn her passing, gentlelady, but if you believe your grief is greater than that of my lady’s, then you are mistaken. Nor is it fair to blame my lady for Lady Bernadette’s death…she was not her mother’s keeper, and it was Lady Bernadette’s own regrettable choices that lead to her illness.”

Daryl sneered, eyes narrowing in a venomous glare. “Do not speak to me, churl,” she hissed.

Akko’s shoulders squared. “I do not speak to you for my sake, but for the sake of my lady. You are speaking to the Lady Cavendish. Keep your words civil and don’t bandy about accusations without merit.”

“Or what?”

And just like that, Akko changed, her face hardening as a cold smirk settled on her lips, her crimson eyes flashing with something deep and dark and dangerous. “Or else I’ll still your tongue,” she said, lifting a clenched fist in clear meaning.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I am Dame Atsuko Kagari, Common Knight and named Champion of the Lady Cavendish, Countess of Wedinburgh. I am oathsworn to answer _any_ affronts to her honor, no matter what relationship that person might share with her. Blaming her for the death of her mother is just such an affront. I have only held back a more appropriate response out of respect to Lady Bernadette, but this is your one and only warning. Heed it well.”

Daryl stared at Akko for a tense moment, face white and body trembling with rage before she spun and stormed out of the cathedral, her daughters hesitating for a moment before they followed suit, concerned and curious murmurs following in their wake. Akko stared after them for a moment before she turned her attention back to the dais, her face troubled.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she said softly, “but I couldn’t keep silent any longer.” Crimson eyes glanced over at her. “I am not one to tell you what to do, but trust me when I say that she is dangerous right now. It would be wise to send her away and to marry off her daughters if at all possible. Some of the things that I’ve been hearing from the servants have been highly worrying. She does not accept that you are the Lady Cavendish.”

Diana sighed heavily, feeling entirely exhausted of everything that had happened. “I…will keep that in mind. And Akko?”

A curious crimson gaze met her. “Yes, my lady?”

“…thank you.”

A tentative smile. “Of course, my lady.”

xxxXXXxxx

A week later and after her mother had been laid to her final rest, Diana found herself sitting in the great hall of her manor, listening to her subjects air the petty disputes that did not require the presence of a royal judge to solve, and never had she yearned for her mother’s presence as she did in that instant. Whatever she decided in each case of this manorial court would be the end of the matter, and her mother had always been available to discuss her decisions prior, let her know what she did well and what she could work on for future hearings.

Now? Now she was alone.

“Freeman Kerrick, is it true that it was your dog that escaped and killed Michael Fletcher’s geese?” she asked, trying not to sound as weary as she felt.

“Well…yes, my lady. But if Fletcher had fixed the hole in his fence, then Nosewise wouldn’t have been able to get to his geese, and I know I told him that before the Feast of Saint James, I did.”

“Freeman Michael? Is this true?”

The man bowed his head contritely. “It is, my lady.”

“So you both are at fault for the death of the geese. Very well, Freeman Kerrick, you will pay…seven pence for each goose slain by your dog Nosewise. Freeman Michael, before you purchase any geese to replenish you flock, you will use the money paid to you by Freeman Kerrick to repair the hole in your fence.”

Michael frowned, his face stricken. “But my lady, my geese supply the feathers that I use to fletch arrows, and accounts for some of the taxes that I pay not only to your armory, but also to the Royal armories! They are my livelihood!”

Diana frowned slightly. “Then you should have kept your fence in good repair. Had it been a fox to kill your geese, you would have been wholly responsible. I have spoken, Freeman Michael.” She glanced to the group of men sitting on benches to the side of the room, paying attention to the proceedings. “Does my manorial homage find issue with my ruling?” she asked the men who acted as representatives of her tenants and who acted as a jury that determined questions of fact with yeas or nays. In this case, her open ended question was more to determine precedent.

“No, my lady, it is well in keeping with previous cases thus,” the oldest amongst them answered in a slow, thoughtful voice. “The reparations imposed are of a fair amount, and it is well within your right to order Freeman Michael Fletcher to fix his fence in order to protect a taxable asset.”

Neither of the men looked happy with the decision that had been made, but they bowed nonetheless, and her bailiff Tobias escorted the two of them out. “Are there any others?” she called out, and Tobias shook his head from his position at the door. “Very good. Then I declare this Court Baron concluded, with the next session to be held three weeks hence,” she announced, and the parish clerk noted as such on the manorial rolls. “What’s next?”

Anna spoke up from where she was standing to the side. “My lady, your new lady-in-waiting has arrived.”

Ah, right. That was something that had been in the works for a rather long time, an agreement that had been made a decade ago if she recalled correctly. The daughter of a minor noble from Finland was to serve as her personal lady-in-waiting in return for favorable trade agreements between England and Finland, as well as an attempt to introduce the young lady to the nobility of England in the hopes of a beneficial marriage. Inasmuch as Diana knew that that was something that was to be expected of the children of noble families, she was determined to do her best to ensure that any marriage that the young lady entered into was a happy one. It was the least that she could do.

The doors opened and the young lady who appeared to be about her age entered the hall. Her dress was definitely of a foreign cut, and she was short and slight, standing just over five feet tall, if even that. Turquoise blue eyes peered about her, and a tendril of orange hair had escaped her wimple to rest against her forehead. She came up and gracefully curtsied, a slightly exotic air to the gesture. “My lady,” she started in a soft, gentle voice that bore a musical accent to it. “Lotte Janstytär, at your service.”

Diana cocked her head curiously. “Janstytär?” she asked, mouth feeling clumsy around the foreign name.

“Jan’s daughter in English, my lady. My father is Jan, son of Jan, Paroni of Oulu.”

That only took a moment’s contemplation. “Paroni…your word for Baron?”

A nod accompanied by a shy grin. “Yes, my lady.”

“I would be honored to know more of your beautiful language, Lotte. For now, speak with the head of my household servants, Anna. She will go over what duties are expected of you.”

Another curtsy. “Yes, my lady.”

Diana looked up and noticed Harold, her reeve, standing by the door. Ah, right. That’s what was next. She turned to Akko who was dutifully standing behind her and to the right of her chair, wearing her gambeson and sword, her short hair covered with her cloth coif she wore when she was not in armor. “Time to go discuss the crops,” she said lightly, smiling at how Akko’s face lit up. Discussing the crops meant leaving the hall and going for a ride, and if there was one thing that Akko truly loved to do, it was to ride.

Some thirty minutes later they rode out past the outer wall of the manor, Harold and her guards and the parish clerk on foot around them as they began to move along the paths surrounding the farmland settled around the manor. A third of the fields were her demesne and were worked by the peasants who lived immediately around her manor, and they fed her household staff and guard, as well as her family. Three quarters of the land that remained were dependent holdings worked by the villeins, and all that remained she rented out to Freemen. Harold was a Freeman who had been elected by his peers to act as the reeve, or supervisor to the peasants and serfs who called the lands around her manor home. One of his duties was to discuss the next year’s planting with her, and she knew that the stewards she had appointed to the other villages and hamlets dotted throughout the county would be doing the same. Wedinburgh proper had a mayor that had been appointed by her mother, and the man had authority over the goings-on within the city walls, but this? This was what lay at the heart of her duties as Countess.

Over the next few hours they roved over her manor’s fields, the parish clerk making note of what fields were to lay fallow, which ones would bear the autumn planting and which would be sowed and planted in the spring. Her clerk, Thomas, also went over which families were paying her rent and which of them were paying for the right to hunt, to have their pigs forage in her woods, to use her mill, all the many little expenses and details that allowed her to pay her dues to the king. Throughout it all, Akko chatted amiably with the peasants and villeins working the fields and had short races against the children who laughed and shrieked in delight as they ran ahead of Akko’s horse. But no matter what Akko was doing, she never strayed very far from Diana, and despite the smile on her voice and the laughter that bubbled up from her chest, those crimson eyes seldom stopped casting about, watchful for any potential threat.

As Harold and Thomas droned on in the background about what family was expected to work which plot of land, Diana found herself watching Akko as the men’s voices faded to the background. For all that she found her own duties to make her weary, she couldn’t help but marvel at Akko’s energy in how she executed her duties. From before Diana awoke to after Diana lay down her head, Akko was there for her, keeping careful watch so that no harm might come to her. If Diana’s duties were tiring, then what were Akko’s?

A flash of white out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see a bird the color of snow alight upon the cross that rose above the small chapel that lay within her manor’s walls. For a moment she thought it was a dove, but…no. No, the shape wasn’t quite right. That was a crow, wasn’t it? A white crow that seemed to be staring directly at her, and she frowned. She had seen that bird before, hadn’t she? But where? Her eyes grew wide as the memory from years gone by surfaced.

Two women, in the woods when she and Akko were but small girls. Cryptic words spoken, carrying the wait of prophecy about them, words that sounded in Diana’s mind, as clearly as if they were being whispered in her ear:

_“Let kindness guide your actions and trust in those closest to you, and you will do your family name proud.”_

She blinked, glanced at Akko once more as she spoke with some of the children, a bright smile on her face, and then Diana’s eyes swept to where Thomas and Harold were speaking amiably, and then she looked back towards the manor where Anna was likely training her lady-in-waiting. Even though her mother was gone, she was still surrounded by those who loved and cared for her. No one would be able to replace her mother, but then…they didn’t _have_ to, did they? They merely had to be there for _her_ , as they had been there for her mother. “These last few years…” she said, her words slow and thoughtful, and the men around her grew silent as they looked to her. “They’ve been bountiful and prosperous, yes?”

Harold and Thomas looked at each other, their faces slightly confused. “Yes, my lady,” Harold said as he bowed slightly. “We’ve been blessed.”

Diana hummed as she looked about the fields where her subjects toiled, her fingers playing with her horse’s reins. “Thomas, correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve plenty to satisfy the king’s taxmen this next year, yes?”

“Yes, my lady, by at least a quarter again what we paid last year.”

She nodded, satisfied by the answer. “Then let it be known that from now until the spring taxes, no Freeman owes me rent, no charges shall be made for pigs to forage in my woods, and those men given permission to hunt are permitted to meet their granted quotas without payment. Additionally, save for the wages to the miller for his toil, flour may be freely ground in my mill.” She turned a smile on the now gaping men. “Let this be my kindness to my subjects who have toiled long and hard on Cavendish lands.”

“My lady, you’re too kind!”

“No, Thomas,” she corrected him, her voice gentle. “Being kind without the means to back that kindness up, being foolishly kind to those that might spurn it or take advantage of it? Yes. But being too kind? There is no such thing.”

He mulled those words over before he nodded. “Wise words, my lady, and I have no doubt that they will be singing your praises this eve.” He returned his attention to the fields around them. “Now, as we were saying, I believe the John and his sons could take that plot there, and…”

Diana let the two men continue their planning, and she looked up before freezing, her breath catching in her chest. Akko was staring at her with a soft and pure expression that Diana had never seen on it, and it took her a moment to place just what that fond smile and warm eyes actually was.

Pride.

Akko was looking at her with open pride, and Diana felt the blush come to her face as she turned her attention back to the men before her, feeling terribly flustered in that moment. What was it about Akko that made her feel this way? Why did she feel like she was her Champion’s entire world in that instant, that Akko had been looking at her and only her, that the rest of the world had simply melted away for Akko?

…why was it that Diana was both scared and exhilarated by such intense focus?

xxxXXXxxx

The rest of the day had passed without any great incident, and had even seen the return of some messages that she had been sending out. To her delight, both the Hanbridges and the Crowthers had sons of the right age, and were agreeable to conducting meetings to see if Merrill and Maril were good fits for their sons and their families. The Hanbridge family was well known, of course, and while they were the equals of the Cavendish family in terms of rank, they held significantly more land. The Crowthers, on the other hand, were a smaller family that held the barony of Lichfield. The benefit with their family, however, was that their lands bordered the Irish Sea, and being linked with a family that held a port would only benefit the family. She could only hope that the meetings went well.

Aunt Daryl was angry at Diana’s decision to not collect rent and to let the people around the manor use the mill and the woods without being charged. Diana had stood firm, and the Lord Jesu as her witness, it took _everything_ in her not to smirk when Aunt Daryl had opened her mouth to angrily retort only to glance over Diana’s right shoulder before she paled, closing her mouth without uttering a word. What look had Akko been giving her aunt for her to stay silent like that? The urge to look over her shoulder to find out had also been almost overpowering, but she had managed to keep her cool and steady gaze on her aunt’s livid face. This was the first time that she felt like she had truly claimed victory over her aunt, and she relished the moment.

Anna reported that Lotte was not only a quick learner, but she was also eager to do her best as Diana’s lady-in-waiting. Anna’s words were very quickly backed up by Lotte’s actions, and while she seemed fairly mousy and shy in nature, she was attentive and fell easily into place to Diana’s left. Akko had welcomed her with the same energy that she welcomed all newcomers, and after getting over the initial surprise at being the focus of such an enthusiastic welcoming, Lotte started to warm up to Akko quickly, which Diana was relieved by. It would have been unfortunate if they hadn’t gotten along…

Finally, after a long day that had seemed brighter than the ones that had preceded it, Diana retired to her room, with Akko conducting her usual check of her room to ensure that there was no danger within. Once she was satisfied, she gave a smiling nod to Diana, who thanked Akko for her hard work before she dismissed both Lotte and Akko, telling them that she’d see them in the morning.

Lotte looked a bit confused at that. “But my lady, am I not supposed to help you ready yourself for bed?” she asked.

Diana shook her head with a warm laugh. “I’m not so old yet that I can’t ready myself, Lotte. You may retire yourself to your room. Rest well, we’ve a long day before us tomorrow.”

“My room?” Lotte asked before her face brightened, and she looked between both Diana and Akko, obviously excited. “I have my own room?”

“Well, yes, of course, why wouldn’t you?” Diana asked, and Lotte’s grin grew wider still.

“Don’t get too excited,” Akko teasingly warned Lotte as she took her by her elbow, leading her down the hall. “It’s hardly a room, and almost more a closet. Cozy though.”

“I’ve never had my own room before,” Lotte gushed as she allowed herself to be led around the corner, and Diana watched them go with a fond smile on her face before she stepped into her room, gently shutting her door behind her. She first took off her wimple and tugged out the braids she kept her hair in, sighing in relief as her hair came to rest against her upper back, and she lightly massaged her scalp, smiling softly as she heard Akko’s familiar tread walk past her door as Akko made her way to her own room. A moment later and Diana could hear Akko moving around in the room next door…the room that used to be her, the room that shared a door with the master bedroom that Diana now occupied.

That thought tugged at Diana’s heart, and she paused for a moment, thoughts of her mother filling her mind. But then she shook off the melancholy, making her way to the closet, placing her wimple in its place on her shelf before she retrieved her nightgown.

It was by mere chance that she glanced down at the stack of Akko’s letters, and she smiled with the thought of how Akko had a nearly identical stack of parchment in her own room and-

She paused, frowning down at the letters. The neatly folded letter on top…was not written by Akko.

She suddenly felt as though she had been doused in ice water, and her skin prickled as she looked down at her name written in her mother’s graceful, flowing hand. Nightgown long forgotten, she slowly bent down and picked up the folded parchment with shaking fingers. Swallowing past a mouth that felt as though it had been stuffed with wool, she stepped out into the bedroom where it was brighter, candles burning from their holders. Standing there in the middle of the room, she hesitated. She wasn’t ready for this.

But then…she wouldn’t _ever_ be ready for this, would she?

Steeling herself, she ran her thumbnail under the rich red wax that had been stamped with the seal that even now lay in the locked drawer in her desk…the official seal of the Lady Cavendish. Unfolding the letter, she took a deep breath as she stared out the window. Then, she looked down.

_‘My dearest daughter Diana,’_

Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes immediately snapped back up, burning in the corners as the tears welled up. _Oh, Mother Mary, give me strength for this task!_ Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look back down, made herself read on.

_‘My dearest daughter Diana,_

_If you are reading this, then I have passed on and am no longer with you. I cannot express in words how much I regret the fact that my body fails me now, when I have such a wonderful, strong daughter who is coming fully into her own. Even when you were just a small child, your father and I knew that you were going to achieve greatness, and for my time on this Earth to be drawn short at the beginning of your achieving that greatness seems to be a cruelty that is too great to bear, but the Lord is calling me home, and I would not dream of denying His call._

_…my darling daughter, even now I have a smile on my lips and tears in my eyes as I recall all those wonderful memories I have of you, from when you were a baby with the biggest blue eyes, the sweetest smile, the happiest laugh, and the strongest grip with your little fists to when you were a little girl running about with Atsuko, adventure and laughter in your heart to your years of study when you tempered studiousness with forging bonds of friendship not only with Hannah and Barbara but also in your many, many letters that you wrote to the one who was closer to you than any others…_

_Diana, my wonderful, smart, pious, and kind daughter. Knowing you, you have worried overmuch about what I might want you to do, or what the Cavendish family expects of you. Let these final words of mine lay any fears or doubts that might grasp at you. What I want from you is simple:_

_Follow your stars._

_Your kindness and your intelligence and your honor and your loyalty all but ensures that you will lead our family to peace and prosperity and greatness merely by being who you are! Anna will advise you, the men and women who call our county home will love you, and Atsuko…no, I shan’t call her that, not any longer, not with what she means to you and to our family, not now that I’m at the end…Akko will support you, through thick and thin. The devotion that she has for you and that you have for her is such that future minstrels will surely sing of it. Cherish that bond._

_Diana, what I want for you with all of my heart is for you to be happy. Be happy in leading our people. Be happy listening to Anna’s stories and her scolding. Be happy with Akko by your side._

_I know not when Death will finally come for me, but know that even after I have passed, I am watching over you with all the love in my heart, and that I heard whatever final farewells you had for me. I miss you terribly already, just as you miss me, and someday we will be reunited before His golden throne._

_Stay strong, Diana, and follow your stars to your own happiness._

_With more love than I could ever hope to properly show,_

_Your mother,_

_-Bernadette_

A sharp sob tore itself out of her throat, and the first fat tear rolled down the bridge of her nose before it paused on the tip, quivering for a moment before it fell to land splashing against the parchment. It was though that first tear broke the dam of the emotions that she hadn’t even realized that she had bottled up, but she hadn’t cried yet, had she? She had been too busy with assuming her mother’s duties, with ensuring that her mother was properly laid to rest-

Her hands were fisted in the sides of her gown, her head still bowed as her eyes squeezed shut, and she bit her lip as she tried oh-so-desperately to stop crying like this, to stop sobbing at her mother’s final goodbye. She didn’t hear the door leading to her own room swing open, didn’t hear Akko’s shocked gasp, didn’t hear the feet running across the floor.

She did feel Akko’s warm, strong arms wrap around her, clasping together under Diana’s chest as she pressed her body close, soft cheek resting against Diana’s upper back, breath warm against Diana’s shoulder as she held her. Diana could not see the look of sadness on Akko’s face, but then, she didn’t need to. She could feel it in how Akko held her, she could _hear_ it in how Akko offered no words of empty comfort, no cheap platitudes. No, Akko did exactly what Diana needed in that instant: she was _there_ for her, offering Diana her silent support, and Diana knew that Akko would hold her like this for as long as she needed.

And so Diana let it all out, all the tears that she had bottled up and suppressed, let out all the grief that she had held at bay, not letting it show, not letting it affect her. She let it all out, crying harder than she had in a very long time, and through it all, Akko held her, a silent pillar of support, firm warmth against her skin, her heartbeat a steady rhythm that thumped against Diana’s back. Akko was there for her when no one else was.

Slowly the tears slowed and then finally stopped, and still they stood there in the center of the room as Diana’s breath slowly came under control, and finally, after the candles had melted low, Diana spoke, her voice rough. “I miss her,” she admitted.

“I know,” Akko replied simply. “I do, too.”

Diana sighed, and Akko’s arms loosened slightly but did not come fully apart, and Diana turned in Akko’s arms, word of thanks dying on her lips as she saw Akko for the first time since she had come into Diana’s room.

She had been in the midst of undressing. She was only wearing her undertunic, her hose, and her braies, and her head was bare, revealing short, messy brown hair that still bore those half-bangs that were so wholly Akko. Golden skin that almost seemed to shine in the candlelight. And, oh, the heavenly host preserve her, that _face_. The face with eyebrows furrowed with concern and worry, with full lips turned down in a sad frown, those crimson eyes that peered at her with an emotion that was deep and powerful and frightening and empowering, and the two of them froze, Diana still held in Akko’s loose embrace as they stared deep into each other’s eyes. Warmth against Diana’s palms, and she blinked, glancing down to see that she had placed them against Akko’s hips. When had she-?

 _Why_ had she-?

But then she was looking back into Akko’s wide crimson eyes while her heart pounded in her chest, and she realized that she knew the answer to that question, that she had known the answer to the question from the moment that Akko had taken off her helm on the day of her return. Her mother had told her to follow her stars, and her stars had led her here to this instant.

Blue eyes flitted down to slightly parted lips before returning to crimson that widened even more, something akin to shock and panic flashing through them before they softened, sliding shut as Akko tilted her face slightly up.

What happened next was as natural as breathing…indeed, leaning down and pressing her lips against Akko’s felt like taking a deep breath for the very first time, full of life and passion and love. Akko’s hands clasped at Diana’s back as she rose up on her toes, pressing their bodies together and her lips against Diana’s as they kissed.

The urge to cry returned, but not due to any sadness. Instead it was because of just how sharp and wonderful and powerful this joy was, how right it felt to be pressed together, at how their lips felt against each other. Akko meant the world to her, had meant the world to her for a very, very long time, and she must have been blind to not have realized it until now.

The kiss ended, but they hadn’t pulled apart, lips just barely brushing together as their eyes opened, locking gazes. Diana was the first to speak.

“I don’t want you to go,” she murmured against Akko’s lips.

Akko smiled in response, the expression equal parts elated and saddened. “I know,” she replied. “But I must.” Her hands slid down Diana’s back before finding her hips, and she took a step back, leaving Diana to shiver at the sudden loss of Akko’s heat against her. Akko licked her lips, looking to the side, her face thoughtful. “I saw a white crow today, and I remembered those two wizards in the woods, all those years ago. ‘Your bravery shall be your armor and your believing heart your sword,’” she said, her eyes slightly unfocused as she recalled the words from long ago. “I never really understood that, not until now.” She turned her attention back to Diana, eyes suddenly steely with determination. “Diana, I will be brave enough for us. I believe that I can become worthy of you and your love. I am your Champion. There is no trial that I can overcome if it is for you. _That_ shall be my armor and my sword.”

Diana blushed heavily at those words, and no person could blame her for it! A happy, flustered grin crossed her face, and she stepped forward once more, still smiling as she brushed her lips against Akko’s once more. “I trust in you, my Champion,” she murmured softly. “Now, get ye hence, or else you won’t be leaving this room.”

Akko skipped back, a wide grin on her face, and she bowed teasingly. “At once, my lady,” she laughed before she returned to her own room, leaving the door cracked open. Diana smiled happily after her before she looked down at the letter on the floor, her smile dimming and growing soft as she bent down and picked it up, holding it close to her heart. “Thank you, mama,” she whispered softly, her eyes squeezing shut. “I’ll follow my stars, like you want. I swear it.” A careful thumb brushed away the remains of her earlier tears from the parchment, and she carefully folded it before placing it back on top of the pile of letters in her closet.

And as she got ready for bed, the great wheels of Fate continued their inexorable march…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we can all thank Superevilbadguy for inspiring this chapter with her wonderful hurt/comfort submission. I knew that they were going to kiss in this chapter, but I hadn't been sure as to how it was going to come about. Several versions were fairly angsty, with Akko turning Diana away because she was drunk or because their social stations are different. Most of them involved Diana going into Akko's room and seeing her in her night clothes and with her head uncovered. But then I saw that drawing, and everything just _clicked_.
> 
> Oh, and for anyone wondering, the thing with the hair. In medieval Europe, hair was intimate. Women wore wimples, men wore coifs to cover their hair. In England specifically, prostitutes were forbidden by law from covering their hair so that they wouldn't be confused with 'honest women.' This is why Diana is never out in public without her wimple, and same with Akko and her coif. So if it seems like Diana is fixated on Akko's hair or vice versa, it's because hair was generally something that only family or your lover would see, save for bath days or amongst groups of your own sex, like in the camps of armies on the move.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed!


	7. A Wizard's Counsel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two wizards, both striving for the same end goal. Two wizards, but with _very_ different ways of reaching that goal. Two wizards, looking over the Cavendish Estate as the three key players come into view. One wizard, who has given counsel and words and strength to the two she has chosen. One wizard...who has not...but oh, she _will_.
> 
> Day 7: Free Day

A Wizard’s Counsel

The two women stood at the edge of the woods looking over the fields and the village and the manor, both their faces thoughtful. “They both saw Alcor and made the link?” the one with lavender hair asked, her face harder and crueler than the other woman’s was.

“Yes, and I spoke the exact words of the prophecy that they heard so long ago.” This one’s hair was a brilliant red, her face soft and kind.

The other one scoffed. “I would have hoped that they actually remembered the damn words, Chariot,” she said, the sound of carrion birds on her voice.

“They were still very young, Croix,” Chariot reminded her, voice gentle, a laughing, babbling brook behind it. “If they had completely forgotten, they would not have been able to see Alcor. The bond is still strong in them.”

A cruel smirk fell on Croix’s lips. “And now we get to see how strong that bond truly is.”

Chariot looked up into the clear sky, crimson eyes flitting about as she looked at things that only she and her companion could see. “The wheels and winds of Fate have changed. The remembrance of the prophecy goaded them as we thought it would, strengthened their position. They have gone from a Possibility to a Probability.”

Croix hummed thoughtfully as she leaned on her staff made of birch, the white woods smooth and gleaming in the daylight. “That may not be enough.” Teal eyes snapped down, as sharp as a hawk’s glare as the two women rode out of the manor’s walls, one armed and armored as a knight, lance bearing the Cavendish pennant, the other dressed as a lady and sitting side straddle. “And that one _still_ does not know the truth of her lineage?” she asked, voice almost disgusted.

“Her parents have not told her, and she suspects nothing. She trusts easily, and suspicion holds not easily in her heart. She’s never been given a reason to doubt their words.” Chariot shrugged. “It is of no great matter.”

A sidelong glance. “You say this only because if what we have Seen comes about, you will get to make that dramatic entrance that you always enjoy doing so much.”

Chariot laughed in delight. “You see right through me, but after how many centuries together, I suppose that I would be rather concerned if you did not know the inner workings of my heart like they were your own by now.”

Another lady came riding out of the manor, her figure made small by the distance that lay between the two women standing on the edge of the woods and the lady at the manor. A normal man would have been able to recognize her as Lady Daryl Cavendish de Wedinburgh, aunt of the Lady Diana Cavendish de Wedinburgh, Countess of Wedinburgh and all villages and hamlets and manor houses that lay within the county thereof. A normal woman couldn’t see how her face stared after her niece and her champion, eyes narrowing with anger and discontent. But then, Chariot and Croix were no two normal women…they could see Daryl’s face clearly, and what’s more, they could see the shapings of her heart.

At this, Chariot seemed to deflate, and she shot a sad glance at Croix, who had a cruel, hard smirk on her face. “I suppose, then, that I shall leave you to _your_ task?” she asked in a soft, distraught voice.

“How many times have we done this, and you still ask the same questions?” Croix retorted, that sharp smile never leaving her face. “You inspire the heroes, make them hearty and brave.” A shadow seemed to pass over her face, and the angles of her jaw and cheeks grew sharper, more predatory, her teal eyes gleaming with a dark light. “ _I_ inspire their foes. After all, what’s the point of a story if the heroes are never in peril?”

The air seemed to flicker and bend, and a flock of crows beat their wings as they burst into the air, the ones with feathers the color of pitch taking flight towards the west and the ones with feathers the color of driven snow flying east.

The two women no longer stood on the edge of the woods.

xxxXXXxxx

Daryl stared after Diana and that Kagari girl, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Anyone with eyes could see that the two of them cared deeply for one another, that they had a devotion to one another that many would call inspiring, showing that love and goodness still existed in these trying times.

If only Kagari was a noble male.

Daryl blinked at that, and then shook her head. No, that wasn’t quite fair. She knew her own sister well, and knew that while she loved her late husband very dearly, she had also loved women too. Daryl…well, she couldn’t love anyone, not in the way that her sister could, and she had tolerated the union that she had been forced into simply because she had to, and she hadn’t shed a tear when the man whose name she did not suffer anyone to utter in her presence had passed on, his advanced years driving him into the grave. And good riddance to the man, whose only saving grace was that he wasn’t cruel. A fool, and boorish, yes, but he hadn’t been cruel. Daryl could only give fervent thanks to God and the Mother Mary that his seed hadn’t bred true, that Merrill and Maril were both far more Cavendishes than they were Stratfords, God bless that family and the fact that some of their sons _were_ of noble bearing and intellect…she had merely had the misfortune of being married to the one who _didn’t_ have those traits.

Well, perhaps she was being overly cruel, she realized as she absently turned her horse towards the distant woods, flicking her horse’s neck with her reins. Her husband hadn’t been cruel, and he did give her Merill and Maril, who she loved. A quick, fleeting sense of sadness at that, and she allowed herself one glance over her shoulders at where Diana and Kagari were sitting astride their horses, side-by-side. She did not care for Kagari at all, but Diana…

She faced forward again, glad that the peasants were busy toiling in the autumn fields, for their labor occupied them, didn’t let them see the regret that blossomed on her face as Lady made her plodding way to the woods.

Oh, Diana! What she wouldn’t give to go back and change how things had come about, what she wouldn’t give to fix how they were now! She loved her niece as any aunt should. After her father died when Diana was but a year old, Daryl had smoothly stepped in to fill the void left by the loss of a parent. Her sister was still so weak, and she struggled so much just to give Diana the milk from her own breast, struggled to provide her infant daughter what she needed. Daryl…well, it was merely a good thing that Merrill and Maril, only a few months older than their cousin, had only _just_ finished nursing, and Daryl still had milk that she could give her niece when Bernadette just couldn’t produce enough, no matter how she tried. Honestly, it had been no different than had a wet nurse been used. Better in some ways, for at least blood was feeding blood.

Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and she brushed a single tear from the corner of her eye at the memory of those brilliant blue eyes peering up at her from under a wild tuft of blonde and tea green hair, chubby finds pressing against her breasts as Daryl nursed her sister’s daughter. And not just nurse her, but change her when she soiled herself, play with her as she grew older, feed her porridge mixed with goat’s milk when she was no longer nursing and when Bernadette’s strength failed her…Daryl was wholly involved in the rearing of her niece.

And then those exciting years when she was a little girl running around and laughing and exploring and learning, and running to Daryl, her face split by a happy grin that showed the missing baby teeth as she laughed in delight, crying out happily for her Auntie Dawyl. She would have killed for Diana, she would have _died_ for Diana, just as she would for her own daughters who had grown up side-by-side with Diana.

Then that Kagari girl had come into their lives.

Daryl did not hold the girl being a commoner against her…some of the most skilled workers in Wedinburgh were of the commonest birth, just as she could name many who were brave and true…Alfred alone had the heart of a lion and she knew that he and the other guards would throw down their lives to defend the manor and her family. Nor did she particularly care that Kagari came from a foreign family. Though rare, there were some few families that had once been traders and who had settled in the county…certainly not so many as were in London or in Paris, or any of the other great cities, but there were several families of Moorish or Saracen stock who had converted to God’s word and who well and faithfully called Wedinburgh their home, just as the Kagaris had, and Daryl was rather proud of the fact that she treated those families no different than those who called Wedinburgh their home for generations on end.

No, it was the brazen familiarity that Daryl just _could not stand_. This girl treated Diana like an equal when she should show her the deference due to her. Merrill and Maril had seen the look that Diana had given this little common girl and had immediately realized that she was up to no good and had thus immediately given her a wide berth…only for Diana to elect to play with this common girl rather than her own family, her own _cousins_ by Jesu! It was _unthinkable_! And yet it happened, right in front of Daryl’s eyes.

Oh, how Daryl had pleaded with Bernadette to put a stop to it. Visiting nobles had noticed the behavior and had begun talking. Young Kagari’s familiarity could very well end up in disaster if she spoke in such a way to someone who would _not_ appreciate such a thing. Depending on who she spoke thus to, ending up in the stocks would be a merciful result.

She had honestly thought that the day when she got into the fight with the England and Parker girls. A commoner, striking a noble? By the law, either of the lords present had every right to put Kagari to death right then and there. It was likely only their great respect for Bernadette that they didn’t press the matter any further, and a good thing, too. It did not matter one whit who started the fight. Commoners could _not_ strike nobility. Such a thing must not be tolerated. Yes, Bernadette was considering sending Kagari to become a Common Knight in order to be Diana’s champion, but surely she couldn’t consider such a thing _now_!

…Apparently she could.

Apparently she _would_.

The most frustrating thing about it all was how Bernadette had disregarded all of her warnings and all of her advice. She truly wanted what was best for their family, wanted their strength to hold fast in these trying times. And doing things that had a high chance of drawing the anger of their peers was one such thing that could bring it all down around them! A Common Knight might be a suitable choice for a Baronet or a Baron, but not for an Earl or a Countess!

Diana would never know, but the day after Kagari had left, Daryl had finally erupted, getting into the largest fight she ever would with her sister, telling her _why_ it was such a damned mistake to continue the path that she had set them on.

Bernadette hadn’t listened. She had closed her face off and gave Daryl an order as the Lady Cavendish to speak of such things no more. Daryl thought her the fool, but she had had to do as she had been ordered. Bernadette might have returned to her usual kind self the next day, but Daryl knew the truth, knew that their relationship had been terribly strained that day, that it would never be the same again. On that day, a part of Daryl’s heart died.

But she still had hope. Kagari would be gone for fourteen years. Diana would learn not just with Merrill and Maril, but also Hannah England and Barbara Parker. They would hopefully temper her idealistic Cavendish kindness with the harsh realities of the noble world.

For a while, it seemed like that was exactly what was happening.

But then Kagari returned, and the way that she looked at Diana…

…the way that Diana looked at _her_.

And then Bernadette’s announcement.

Daryl knew it was illogical. She _knew_ it. Blaming Kagari on her sister’s death was the same as blaming a dog for the death of a grand and wonderful tree that succumbed to rot that had afflicted it for years. The dog’s presence mattered not, but it was easy to blame the dog because it was _there_ when the tree died.

And so Daryl blamed Kagari for Bernadette’s death and oh how she _loathed_ Kagari’s existence with every fiber of her being. Kagari was the one who drove a wedge between her daughters and Diana. Kagari was the one whose mere presence was an affront to the natural order of things. Kagari was the one whose existence was the single largest cause of strife between her and her beloved sister, who died before Daryl could try and make amends.

If Kagari were to die, it would be a struggle for Daryl to not dance with glee.

A crow cawed, voice raucous and loud in the undergrowth of the forest, and Daryl blinked before frowning, pulling up the reins of Lady. What was she doing in the forest? It hadn’t been her intention to come here. That was…odd. She had been so lost in thought that…

…why had she directed Lady towards the woods?

A prickle of unease ran through her. It had been an urge…a subtle, quiet urge that she hadn’t even noticed, just as she hadn’t really noticed following it, which was so unlike her. Everything she did was calculated. She hadn’t even been into her drink yet today, so she couldn’t use that as an excuse. She should, by all rights, _not_ be in the woods.

“You’re right, you know.”

Daryl’s head snapped up and she stared at the young woman standing in the path in front of her. She had not been there a moment ago. Then Daryl looked into those eyes, and her skin crawled. Those eyes…were hard and cold as flint and were so many times older than the face that they were set in. “Who are you,” Daryl snapped, hand dropping to the hilt of her dagger.

“A friend, if you believe it or not,” the woman smirked, and even though she really knew it wasn’t wise, Daryl felt some of her guard drop. “At least, a friend if you want and need one. But one thing for certain, I can offer advice to you.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, fingers growing lax on her dagger’s hilt. “Advice? What advice?”

“Advice as to how to fix you family problem.”

Daryl froze at that, her jaw working. “…Proceed.”

“Your niece is confused. Young. Inexperienced. She’s rebuked all of your advice, _especially_ when it comes to her so-called Champion.” The woman’s head tilted to the side, teal eyes narrowing. “You’ve seen how they look at each other. Kagari isn’t just the Lady Cavendish’s Champion, they _love_ each other. How would the rest of the nobility react if they discovered that the daughter of the well-loved and much admired Bernadette Cavendish was in love with a commoner? What would they do to you and your family?”

Why did…why did she feel so sleepy all off a sudden? When had the woman’s voice grown so soothing? Eyelids drooping low, Daryl found it to be a struggle to answer. “They’d…destroy us,” she murmured. “They’d make…an example out of Diana.”

“My lady, you _must_ protect Diana, even if it’s from herself. You love her too much for her to be destroyed by her own folly, don’t you?”

A tear rolled down Daryl’s cheek as she once more remembered holding a baby Diana in her arms, her niece asleep, her eyes closed in gentle slumber as her plump cheek rested against Daryl’s chest, her tiny body warm through the fabric of Daryl’s dress. “ _Yes_ ,” she sobbed, another tear joining the first. “I love Diana. I love my sister’s daughter like I love my own!”

“You’ll have to be strong,” her truest friend in all the world cautioned. “Diana will not accept what is necessary so easily. She will try and fight you.”

“I’ll save her!” Daryl swore. “Even if I have to wrest control of the family from her, I will do what is necessary to protect her from the others…from that _girl_.”

A cold smirk that Daryl could not see. “Yes, my lady, that’s it. That girl. That girl is the crux of it. _That girl must be destroyed._ ”

Pure hatred surged through Daryl. “She will rue the day she ever laid eyes on my niece!”

The sound of crows cawing loudly, and Daryl blinked, staring at her outstretched hand that had its fingers hooked like claws. What…? The woods…what was she doing in the woods? She looked around, confusion roiling in her gut, but she was alone. Hadn’t she just been-?

Fingers that trembled slight came up to touch her cheeks, the tips of them coming away wet. She had been crying. Why had she been crying?

The thought struck her then, powerful and pure: for all the strife that her family had gone through, all would be better if she could just get rid of that damned Common Knight. Diana might hate her for a while, but that was a small price to pay. Face set and a red glint in her blue eyes, Daryl swung Lady around, urging her onwards to the manor. Diana would forgive her eventually, would see that what Daryl was trying to do was necessary not just for their family, but for her as well. She would see that Daryl was merely trying to set her free from that common girl’s influence.

Yes, once that Common Knight who dared to encroach upon _her_ family was gone, all would be well. All would be right, exactly as it should be.

On the path behind her, Croix leaned on her staff, the cruel, hard smirk never wavering as she watched Daryl Cavendish ride away from her, satisfaction purring through her very soul. The pieces were set. Now?

Now the game was truly about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the one chapter that very nearly wasn't written on time. For various reasons, I have a three hour commute later today and will be going home for the first time in a few weeks. I wasn't going to be in any condition to write later (on a related note, I'm going to be taking a short hiatus to catch my breath, possibly through tomorrow) and I wrote chapter 6 for this story on Day 5 and then the space cadet short story yesterday, finishing just before 18:00.
> 
> The question was could I write another chapter before going to bed?
> 
> The answer is yes, apparently. So between 09:00 on Friday to just before midnight last night, I wrote 14,520 words. Woof.
> 
> So far as the chapter itself goes...I like mysterious Chariot and Croix. It was also a fun challenge to write from Daryl's POV just so we can understand things better from her perspective. She has her reasons for being as horrid as she is, and Croix is _not_ helping with that. Her acting as a wet nurse for Diana wasn't as uncommon as some might think, as wet nurses were a thing in the Middle Ages, though perhaps not as common and chic as they would be during the Victorian era. It definitely adds a facet to Daryl in her relationship with Diana...she helped raise her even to the point of feeding her when Bernadette simply couldn't produce enough milk for her daughter, something that is more common than you'd think.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this final day for Dianakko Week 2020, and thank you all so very much for the reviews! I promise I'll respond to them as soon as I can!


	8. Life's Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are growing more strenuous in the kingdom of England, with rapidly growing discontent against the king. As such, and as a precautionary measure, Diana is seeing about restoring the castle that overlooks the city of Wedinburgh. It had been allowed to fall into some disrepair the past few decades, for times had been peaceful enough that her forbearers felt confident in not spending the resources and personnel needed to keep it in working order. It still stands strong, but needs some minor care and repair.
> 
> Given that Diana will be with the Mayor of Wedinburgh and will have her most loyal guards around her, Akko takes the chance to go and visit her family, as duty has kept them apart for quite a long while. She missed them. Little did she know that it was not Diana who was in danger...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time that I got back to this! Sorry for the delay, but the Rare Pair week took a lot longer than I thought it would. But I am definitely going to give this good focus, as well as _Fox and Falcon_. It'll be nice to get those taken care of!
> 
> Added graphic description of violence, but kept it light enough to maintain that T rating. Hope you enjoy!

Life’s Blood

The first time that someone tried to well and truly kill Akko was a rather _excitable_ experience. It also came as something of a surprise.

It happened during a visit to Wedinburgh in the spring following Diana's first winter as Countess. Diana was looking at renovating the old castle there that her grandsire had finished building half a century ago. The county had been peaceful enough in the past handful of decades that the small castle had fallen into some disuse and disrepair, and with tensions rising across all of England with the nobility from the continent that the King was giving land and titles away to, she felt that it was high time to get the castle back into working order…just in case. So she arranged to travel to Wedinburgh to see what needed to be done in April, after the roads had finally cleared enough for easy travel.

Surprisingly, Lady Daryl had seemed fully supportive of the move, even though it would dig deeply into their coffers. After all, merely maintaining a castle cost a fair amount. Repairing one that had been left standing silent and empty for decades was something else altogether. Akko rather took it to mean that the normally stingy woman realized the danger that was looming on the horizon. Well…perhaps stingy was not the right phrase. Lady Daryl was overly fond of hosting parties for the nobility of the surrounding baronies and counties and seemed obsessed with accumulating the wealth necessary to spend on such parties, even though Diana was quite clear that she was not so fond of said parties. She’d rather the extra money that they received by way of taxes went to repairing bridges and roads and funding fairs and festivals for the common folk, fitting of the current and ruling Lady Cavendish. The fights resulting from such diverging thoughts on the subject were rather impressive, and usually ended with Diana pulling her rank.

So, it was somewhat disconcerting that Lady Daryl gave in without much of a fight, even though the cost of the renovations would most certainly cut back on the number of parties she could throw. Perhaps it was because it would get Diana out of the manor and in Wedinburgh for quite a while. Made as much sense as anything else…the two of them got along about as well as oil and fire these days. It was a relief to be away from that.

Of course, being in Wedinburgh had other advantages, too. They had not come to the city alone, the two of them. Alfred had come with them, as well as a dozen of his best men, as well as Lotte, and they had met with the Mayor of Wedinburgh, the chief architect of the restoration, and the Bishop of Wedinburgh on the bluff that overlooked the city that the castle was built upon to discuss the plan. Given the number of individuals that Akko well and truly trusted who were around Diana, as well as the fact that they brought their food and drink from the Cavendish Manor, Akko felt comfortable in getting Diana’s leave to visit her parents, her brother and his wife, and their children. It had been a while since she had seen them, what with how busy she was seeing to her duties as Diana’s Champion, so the chance to see them for a few hours while Diana was doing the boring planning and organizing of the reconstruction would be a welcome break. Diana’s smile when she gave her permission was knowing…Akko would be bored out of her mind being stuck at the castle all day, and Alfred and his men could be trusted to keep their Lady safe.

Akko decided to walk to her family’s house, rather than ride her horse. There was no easy place to leave her horse near the house, and someone might try to steal her if left unattended, and then there would be the trouble of finding the horse thief and bringing them to justice…more trouble than it was worth, honestly. Besides, the home wasn’t too drastically far from the castle, and these were the streets that she had run and explored when she was but a girl. It would be nice to walk them again, now that she was older.

She was dressed more for comfort than for protection, this day. No maille armor, but she was wearing her gambeson over her clothing, and she bore the brass spurs that showed her rank as a Common Knight with pride. A cloth coif covered her hair, preserving her modesty, and she had the surcoat with the Cavendish coat of arms emblazoned on it. She had contemplated leaving her sword with her horse, along with her shield that was hanging from the saddle, but…her fingers had stilled at the ties, a sense of _something_ niggling at her. Not alarm, not fear, nor even wariness, but there was a sensation in her gut telling her to leave her sword on her belt. Ah, well, her brother would probably like to see it, to say nothing of her nephews.

The visit itself was quite enjoyable, and it was so very nice to speak with her family again, basking in the pride that fairly shined from her parents’ eyes and answering the excitable questions of her niece and nephews, and yes, her nephews’ eyes fairly bugged out of their heads when she drew her sword for them to see. She very much was proud of her service to Diana, as she had worked so very hard for it and had earned her position over fourteen years of grueling training, and knowing that she was protecting the woman that she loved filled her with a sublime joy…but sitting around the table with her family and eating dinner with them and listening to them speak on their mundane, peaceful lives was wonderful. She was so very happy that they had supported her on her journey, and she loved all of them dearly. If repairing the castle meant that they would be spending more time in Wedinburgh, then perhaps the next time that she visited, Diana could come with her…or, more realistically, her family could come up to the castle and visit her and Diana while they were in residence.

Unfortunately, all good things most come to an end, and all too soon the _nones_ bells were ringing, showing the ninth hour after dawn. They would be reading psalms in the churches and the cathedral, and now was just as good a time as any for Akko to return to the castle. The mayor would be housing them in his grand house within the city tonight, and they would return to the Cavendish manor on the morrow. But for now? Akko first needed to return to the castle and meet back up with Diana and the others.

She said her farewells, hugging and kissing and tousling the hair of the little ones before she was stepping out into the cobbled street, and she paused for a moment to gain her bearings as a murder of pitch black crows cawed raucously from where they sat atop the house across the narrow street. Akko glanced up at them, her mouth quirking to the side. Was it just her, or did it seem like there were more crows recently than there used to be? She was not so superstitious as some of her peers, but it did strike her as curious.

She blinked, and then shrugged as she turned and made her way up the street, heading for the castle visible in the distance.

The streets were fairly busy, and she even recognized more than a few of the passers-by, and she exchanged many greetings, fairly beaming with pride at how so many of those that knew her as a child were so obviously impressed that she was not just a Common Knight but also the Champion of the Countess Wedinburgh. Such exchanges of pleasantries took a bit more time than Akko honestly expected. Hmm, she’d have to get off the main streets if she was going to make it back to Diana with any haste. Of course, that, too, was a trip down memory lane…she had played many a game with her peers in these twisting alleys as a child, and walking along them now had her smiling with fond memories, and she chuckled as she realized that she really was quite the hellion when she was a child. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if she found out that her parents had actually foisted her off on the Cavendish family to keep her out of trouble…

Wedinburgh had a very great many little twists and turns in this part of town, which was known as the Burrows, after the tunnels rabbits dug. Outsiders could get almost hopelessly lost in this area, but Akko traversed it with ease, moving quickly now that there were less people. Humming happily, she stepped out into a small courtyard that had a rather sad tree in the middle of it, crows in the skeletal branches, staring at her with their glassy black eyes. The yard was ringed mostly by houses, though a building to her left had the ground floor opened up to the air, with a rough wooden bar set along its length. Ah. An alehouse.

She smacked her lips, her stride slowing as she left the alley. It wasn’t too hot of a day, but she was wearing layered armor, and she smacked her lips as her gaze lingered on the bar. Well, she did have a small purse with her, mainly filled by her allowance for being Diana’s Champion. It wasn’t too much, mainly because she didn’t ask for much. The money that she could rightfully demand could better go towards the people. But, she _did_ have enough for a pint, and she was rather thirsty. Eh, why not?

She sauntered up to the bar, fishing a farthing from her purse as crows cawed behind her. “A pint, please,” she said, and the bartender nodded, grabbing a clay mug from a rack. While she waited for him to fill it, she smiled and nodded to the others at the bar, who looked like they had been in their cups for a little bit too long. They blearily stared at her, not returning her smile or her nod. Feeling slightly uncomfortable now, Akko popped her lips and drummed her fingers on the surface of the bar. It was a relief when the bartender returned with her drink. She brought it to her lips and took a sip before pulling it away and looking down at it with a satisfied hum. That was actually pretty tasty!

“‘Ang on. I know you,” came the slurred voice, and she looked over at the other drinkers to find one of them staring at her with bleary, narrowed eyes. “Tha’s right. Yer tha’ Kagari brat! The one wot was runnin’ round, raising hell all them years gone.”

Akko blinked, more surprised and confused than anything else at the belligerent tone. She straightened, quirking a brow as she fully faced the man, on the off chance that he somehow managed to _not see_ the Cavendish coat of arms. “Not so much a brat any more, and I’ll thank you to remember that,” she said, an edge to her voice. As a rule, she did not seek out fights, but that did not mean that she would let insults casually by. She narrowed her eyes as she concentrated, trying to put a name to the face. It had been fourteen long years, but…ah, right! “You’re Thomas Thatcher, yes?”

He, too, stood and turned to face her, and his drinking companions to his back were now paying very close attention to the conversation even as the crows in the wan tree began to caw all the louder, other flapping in to perch on the roofs around the clearing. “Oh, good,” he spat, an ugly flush appearing high on his pock marked cheeks. “She remembers us lowly peasants!”

Her eyes flicked down to the long knife he had tucked in the belt around his tunic and then back to his face. “I’ve no quarrel with you, Thatcher,” she said, her voice warning even with how soft she kept it. A wonder, too, what with how her heart was starting to pound in her chest and how her palms began to sweat in anticipation of what might come. “Sit down, enjoy your drink, and leave me be.”

“She finks she kin give us orders, lads,” he slurred over his shoulder, and the men at his back began to murmur angrily as he continued, now almost shouting to be heard over the din of the crows. “Left us ‘ere to _rot_ and comes back in fancy clothes, finking she’s better’n us!”

It was hard to concentrate with how loud the crows were, with the absurdity of Thatcher’s words, and with the own anger that was now burning fiercely in her chest. “I’m the Champion of Lady Cavendish,” she snapped back even as the men began to fan out in a circle around her, hands clenched in fists or around knives and cudgels. Her own hand found the hilt of her sword, and she shifted so that her back was to the wall of the building next to the alehouse. “And I said it before. I’ve no quarrel with men like you. Sit. _Down!_ ”

They were all bigger than her, some even by a full head and at least a stone, and their muscles were hard and lean by years of labor. Not only that, but by law, they were required to train with the bow and keep themselves fit for service if they were called upon in a levy should Wedinburgh send its sons to war. And still further, the Burrows were a rough place to live at times, with fights breaking out regularly enough, to say nothing of the wrestling and boxing competitions that were held regularly. These men knew how to fight, and were drunk and angry and Akko didn’t know _why_ they were so angry but they _were_ , and her eyes darted from one to the next even as the cawing of the crows filled the courtyard with a raucous din.

But she was not afraid.

After all, _she_ knew how to fight as well.

The stories never truly captured the chaos of it all. Nor did they portray just how _quickly_ it happened. One moment Akko was standing there, back to the wall, hand on her sheathed sword as the men surrounding her looked to one another as they paced to and fro like angry lions, and the next they were rushing her, cudgels raised and knives slipping free from belts. It seemed to Akko as though her sword fairly leapt out of its sheath, and the next few pounding heartbeats were spent in swirling confusion, faces and bodies and blades melding together as she fought for her life without understanding _why_ she was fighting in the first place. The men were drunk and brave and confident with their numbers…but all of that could not match three feet of steel in the hands of a fully-fledged knight who had trained for more than fourteen years to be who she was.

It was over almost as soon as it began, dust from the courtyard swirling through the air and the smell of blood thick in the nostrils. Akko was still standing, back still against the wall, her sword now wet with the blood of the three men who lay at her feet, two of them completely still and one of them moaning and sobbing as he writhed on the groud. The others were well and truly fleeing, one of them wailing as he clutched what remained of his right arm against his chest…he was leaving behind a goodly portion of his forearm and hand that still gripped a sturdy knife. A sturdy knife red with blood.

The crows had exploded into a frenzy, taking flight, cawing, cawing, cawing as black feathers fell onto the courtyard like a snow, and Akko found that she wasn’t standing with her back to the wall, she was leaning against it, gasping for breath as the pain finally hit her. The man that she had cut the arm off of had managed to close in while she was busy disemboweling his comrade, and he had managed to stab her in the side, the tip of his knife piercing through the many layers of her gambeson and then her tunic to find her flesh beneath. They had suffered terribly for it, but they had managed to wound her.

Wincing, her left hand pulled the now torn surcoat away from her gambeson before she pressed against the rent in the cloth armor, and she cried out as the pain hit her, sending her head to swimming. Diana…she had to get to Diana! Legs shaking slightly, she stumbled over to the alehouse where the bartender was staring at her with wide eyes, his face pasty beneath his beard. “Rag, I need a rag,” she ground out, and he nodded, wordlessly reaching under the bar before producing a rag that had seen far better days than this, but she didn’t have much choice. “Lay it on the bar,” she ordered even as a cold, clammy sweat broke out on her forehead, the pain now pulsing with each heartbeat. It hadn’t been just a clean stab, he had wrenched the blade around before withdrawing. For a moment she regretted not killing him…

She lay her sword on the bar before she pulled the surcoat even further out, giving her hands enough space to unbuckle the gambeson’s strap that was level with her navel, and she wadded up the damp rag that stank of stale ale before slipping it under the gambeson, pressing it directly against the wound, once more crying out as pain flared again. Gritting her teeth and swallowing the rest of the cry as she pounded a clenched fist against the bar’s surface, sending her sword to rattling and the bartender to jumping. Breathing heavily, she glared through the pain up at the man behind the bar. “When…the city watch gets here…you tell them what happened. A knight commands you…do you understand?” she panted, and he nodded wordlessly.

She took a moment to gather up her sword and to get her bearings before she began limping away from the evidence of the short and brutal fight as blood began to soak into the wool of her hose. The courtyard was now completely silent…the man she had wounded had either passed out or passed on, and she didn’t care enough to find out which. She _needed_ to find Diana. She only hoped that she would make it. Either she would be able to slow the bleeding enough to reach Diana, or the knife had cut too deep and she would bleed to death somewhere on the streets of Wedinburgh.

She was so focused on that that she didn’t notice the tall, pale woman with lavender hair watching from the alcove that Akko had entered the courtyard from, a pleased and cruel smirk on her face as hard teal eyes took in the lifeblood that had been spilled on the courtyard floor, and as Akko stumbled out of the yard through an alley’s entrance opposite to where the woman now stood, the woman nodded as though entirely pleased with the result of the fight before she slipped back, disappearing in the shadows of the narrow alleyway. All according to her and Chariot’s plan. All according to plan…


	9. To Protect One Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana is starting to get worried. It is far later than it should have been for Akko to return to Diana's side from visiting her parents, and yet there hasn't been any sight of her. But...Wedinburgh was a safe enough city, wasn't it? And it wasn't as though Akko would go looking for trouble, not if trouble would keep her from Diana. So Diana tries to force herself to pay attention to the chief architect as they discuss the plans to rebuild the castle when Alfred gives out a cry, pointing down the hill where a familiar figure could be spotted...
> 
> ...a familiar figure holding a drawn blade colored red with spilled blood, a figure clutching her side, a figure who was limping.
> 
> "Akko!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: semi-graphic description of tending a wound

To Protect One Another

“As you can see, my lady, we’ve been receiving a steady supply of timber for the project from the local forests. Good English oak, strong and hearty!” the chief architect was saying, and Diana nodded as she looked over the many stacks of broad beams set up on the grounds before the castle, covered in hides to protect them from rain. The man was portly and was named Hubert Yeverley, and he spoke with all the focused intensity of a master of a craft.

“There does seem to be quite a lot of it,” she murmured, half distracted as she glanced out over Wedinburgh as it was bathed in the early evening sun, the first bits of unease stealing over her. It had been a while since Akko was out of her sight for so long, and while she didn’t begrudge Akko of her time spent reuniting with her family, it was also unusual of her to be gone quite this long. After all, the _nones_ bell had rung some time ago. She glanced at where Alfred and his men stood by even as she had half the mind to send a brace of them to go down into town to see what was delaying Akko. But…would that be too pushy. Forcing herself to focus on the matter at hand, she turned back to Hubert. “I hadn’t thought that the disrepair had been that bad.”

“Oh, it isn’t, my lady!” Hubert insisted. “The north tower is the worst, had the roof cave in during a particular rough winter so the wood of that top floor warped with all the rain, but other than that and some minor leaks to take care of, most of the wood is still sound. There might be some replacements necessary in the below ground floors, as damp can rot wood, but I’m not anticipating that to be too bad. No, this is mostly for hoarding.”

Ah, yes. Hoarding. Wooden structures projecting out from the top of the walls so that defenders had more protection and so that they could fire arrows and drop stones and oil down on attackers below. “You think it necessary?” she asked, her tone more curious than judging.

Hubert shrugged and spread his hands. “A wise man once said that it is better to have something and have no need for it than need something and not have it. It takes time to construct the hoarding, and if you have everything on hand and as built as possible without actually mounting it on the walls, that will leave your men more time to see to other matters if the need arose.”

Diana nodded. “Wise words, Master Yeverley. How is the stone work?”

“The chief mason John de Vries will be by on the morrow to inspect it. He’ll be able to tell you in more detail, but from what I could see, there are some areas that the mortar has dried out and thus needs replacing, but-”

“My lady!” came the cry from Alfred, and she and Hubert turned to see him pointing down the hill where a lone figure could be seen walking up the road, and relief flooded through Diana as she recognized Akko…

…relief that almost instantly turned to worry and then to dread when she realized that Akko’s gait was slow and stumbling and that she held her side with one hand while her other held her drawn sword. Something was terribly wrong.

Diana was running before she even realized that she gave her legs the order to move, her hands snatching up the skirts of her dress so that she could move faster, and she was only just barely aware of shouted orders and then the jingling of maille as Alfred and his men joined her in her mad dash down the winding road, down the hill, down to Akko.

She came to a sliding halt next to her Knight, her guards just behind her, and her heart beat frantically in her chest as she saw how pale Akko was, how a sweat had broken out on her face, how her eyes were unfocused as her breath rasped in and out, in and out.

Diana didn’t hesitate to throw Akko’s right arm over her shoulder, ignoring how the naked blade of her sword slapped against the skirt of her dress as she began to try and lead Akko up the hill, smearing not-quite-dry-yet blood on the fabric. “I’ve got you, Akko,” she called out even as Alfred did the same for Akko’s other arm, the two of them supporting her.

“Diana?” Akko croaked faintly, head now dropping to hang loosely, swaying towards Diana. “Izzat you?”

“Would someone get that damned sword before it cuts Lady Diana?!” Alfred fairly roared, frustration and worry clear in his voice. One of his men gently took Akko’s sword from her limp hand, and she only offered a token grumble of protest. “You two, get back up the hill and prepare a place for her to lay, now!”

The two men bolted back up the hill even as Diana looked over at Alfred, their worried gazes meeting, the smell of fresh blood thick and cloying in their noses. “She’s been badly hurt,” Diana said, dread stealing her breath away and settling into her gut in a sour ball.

Alfred nodded, jaw set with determination. “We need to get her up the hill.”

They managed, and in short order, despite their differences in height. By the time they reached the top of the bluff and to the litter thrown together from some of boards and hides taken from the construction materials, Akko was delirious and only semi-conscious. They lay her down gently, and Diana immediately got to work, kneeling in the dirt next to the stretcher, face focused and hands steady as she fell back on her education as a healer. She undid Akko’s sword belt and pulled her surcoat out of the way before she began untying Akko’s gambeson. When she yanked it open, she froze, heart wrenching in her chest at the sight that lay before her.

“She’s…lost a lot of blood,” Alfred muttered, his voice worried.

Diana didn’t answer him, instead turning to the mayor as he stood fretting by. “You have a house surgeon?”

He nodded, and she pitched her voice to carry as she set to work, ignoring how blood had soaked Akko’s hose almost to the knee. “Send a rider to the mayor’s house, get the surgeon ready. We will need _aqua vitae_ , clean bandages, and sutures ready, and get water boiling!” There was a flurry of movement around her as her orders were carried out, the sound of a horse galloping away and down the hill barely catching her attention as she saw to Akko. She grabbed the filthy rag that Akko had wadded against her tunic wound, ignoring the wet, cold, sticky blood against her hand as she gently pulled it away, Akko giving a moaning croak as Diana cast the blood-soaked rag aside into the dirt. “Dagger!” she called out, and Alfred drew his own, not having to be told what to do as he cut open Akko’s tunic at the ugly tear in it, revealing the wound.

Diana hissed, anger flaring for the first time at the sight of the rent in Akko’s flesh, jagged and wrenching, a fresh trickle of blood running from it. She didn’t hesitate to tear the wimple from her head, folding it up before pressing it firmly against the wound, heart wrenching at Akko’s pained cry and the way she tried to listlessly shift away from the pressure. “We need to get her to the mayor’s house,” she said. Alfred nodded, and Akko was quickly lifted up by four litter bearers, Diana remaining by her side so that she could keep pressure on the wound, as well as to hold Akko’s hand, praying that she’d stay strong.

“My lady, your _hair_ ,” came the worried hiss by her side, and she turned to see Lotte staring at her as she walked beside her, wringing her hands.

Ah, yes, her hair. In any other circumstance, being out in public with exposed hair was indecent, something that only whores did…rather, something that whores were required by law to do, their exposed hair showing them for their profession, but this was not any other circumstance. “We had no clean rags,” she said stiffly. “My wimple was just freshly laundered, and we need to slow the bleeding, or else she might not make it so far as the mayor’s house.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at Akko. “I would have thought that her safety is more important to you than my appearance.”

There was a shocked gasp behind her, followed by a hurt silence. When Lotte spoke again, her accent was far more pronounced, and though her voice was quiet, it was not lacking in passion: “Akko is one of my few friends who accepted me for me without caring where I come from or _why_ I’m here. But I am unable to do anything to help her. Yet, I feel as though I must do _something_ else go mad with worry!” There was a pause, and Diana glanced over at her lady-in-waiting, seeing the fear and concern that lie heavy on her face, and she felt a twinge of guilt for her insinuation…especially after Lotte wiped away a tear before she set her jaw with determination. “You are protecting Akko right now. Let me protect you as best I can.”

Those words spoken, she took the wimple off of her own head, short and messy strawberry blonde hair exposed to the sun’s waning light before she moved closer to Diana, matching her stride as she reached up and covered Diana’s hair as best she could. It was not perfect, the fit not quite right and they couldn’t very well take the time to put it on completely correct, but it was better than nothing. Diana bit her lip, looking down at Akko’s pale and grimacing face. “Thank you, Lotte. And I’m sorry.”

Lotte didn’t answer for a moment. “I’m worried, too,” she finally said, and Diana felt some of the tension run out from her shoulders, hearing the forgiveness in those words. Yes, they were both worried, their fear for Akko coloring their words, so that they might lash out at those who they held in high regards. She was just glad that Lotte wouldn’t hold her fear and frustration and worry against her…

Thankfully it did not take too much longer to reach the mayor’s house, and he directed them within even as her ordered some of his servants to clear off the table in the main hall so that they could rest Akko on top of it. To Diana’s relief, the house physician was waiting for them with the supplies that she had ordered to be prepared, and he peered curiously at Akko over Diana’s shoulder as the litter bearers set her down on the now cleared table. “What happened to this one?” he asked, tone almost disinterested.

“Stabbed in the side, it looked like it was done by a knife, not a sword,” Diana replied shortly, pointing at one of the servants standing by. “You, there, boy, bring candles for light, and someone put some of the dressings into the boiling water,” she ordered, far more curtly than she normally would, but these were not normal circumstances.

“Ah, well. I’ll take it from here,” the surgeon said before he was practically shouldering Diana aside. “Bring my tools to me,” he continued on in that same, detached tone.

Red flashed through Diana’s vision, but she was a lady, and she would try to resolve this diplomatically. “You misunderstand, Master Physician,” she bit out as she stood tall, squaring her shoulders. “This lady is my personal champion, and I will do anything and everything to ensure her safety and recovery.”

The physician smirked at her. “Then you will stand back and let me do my work, my lady,” he said in a dismissive tone. “Better to not have a novice possibly make a mistake.”

Everyone went very still at that, Diana staring up at the tall man with fury coursing through her veins. She was her daughter’s mother and learned under the best physicians and surgeons available. Any practitioner of medicine would be aware of such a thing, of what being a Cavendish actually meant. “Alfred?” she managed to choke out, her fingers trembling before she curled her hands into fists.

“My lady?”

“Remove this man from my sight before I do something that he’ll regret,” she hissed.

Alfred’s face was grim as he nodded. “My lady.”

“Wait, what?” the physician gasped, looking shocked as two of Alfred’s larger men moved to flank him. “You can’t-” he started before they seized his arms and began to drag him forcibly away. His protestations went unheeded as he was dragged out the door.

Diana was breathing heavily as she returned to Akko’s side. “I am by nature an understanding and forgiving woman,” she said to the room at large. “It would be wise if someone explained to him the importance of manners when we aren’t so emotionally charged.” She took a deep breath, holding out her hands and willing them to still. She needed steady hands for this. “Candles?”

The young lad she had pointed to before stepped closer, a candelabrum in his hands. “Here, my lady.”

“Hold it high,” she said gently, and he nodded, doing as she requested, the candlelight bathing Akko in its warm glow. “Let us begin.”

First came cleaning the wound. That was a thing she had learned from her mother and she couldn’t say quite why it worked, but well and truly cleaning a wound often meant less infections as the wound healed. But it had to be more than just washing away the worst of the dirt and ichor from the wound. Her mother’s own experiences as a healer told her that cleaning it as thoroughly as possible was best. The only downside was that doing it the right way meant causing pain to the patient, something that Diana was loathe to do to her Champion…to the woman she was falling in love with.

But it had to be done.

First came pulling away her now ruined wimple away from the injury…no amount of washing would ever fully remove the heavy bloodstains from the white linen. But she didn’t care. She could always get another wimple. Then came cutting open Akko’s tunic even further, exposing more of her pale abdomen to view, and Diana stared down at the wound, fury crackling through her once more before she forced her clenched hands to relax.

Her anger could wait, Akko needed her.

It took perhaps half an hour. First she scrubbed the wound with the dressings that had been in the boiling water. Then she used the _aqua vitae_ , the strong smelling spirits causing Akko to cry out in pain as Diana pressed the cloth she had doused with them against the wound. But after that, the wound was as clean as Diana could make it, and so she sutured the wound, her hands steady even as her heart and mind were racing. Then it was the simple and final task of pressing a clean dressing against the wound before tightly wrapping bandages around Akko’s abdomen.

It was odd how a mere thirty minutes could leave one feeling so drained…

At least it seemed as though Akko was now sleeping, her breathing deep and slow as she was brought to the room that the mayor was letting Diana use during her stay. Diana watched as Alfred’s men carefully transfer her to the bed before she gestured to Alfred and the mayor, and the three of them headed out into the hall. Diana’s voice was quiet as she spoke. “I want the ones who did this found.”

“I’ll put the town guard on it, my lady,” the mayor promised. “They shall not rest until the deed is done, no stone shall remain unturned.”

Diana sighed, wearily pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” She paused, frowning. “Why did this even happen? I know that Wedinburgh has its rough areas but this…attacking a knight bearing my crest on her surcoat? That speaks of madness, it doesn’t make any sense!”

The mayor fidgeted. “Perhaps she started a quarrel?”

Diana was not alone in emphatically shaking her head ‘no’…Alfred joined her in the gesture, a scowl on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, maille armor jingling slightly. “That doesn’t sound like Akko…er, Dame Kagari. She’s hot-headed and stubborn to boot, but I’ve never known her to start a fight. She’ll stand her ground against anyone, but being the instigator?”

“I can’t imagine that being the case,” Diana agreed, voice resolute. “Especially not if doing so might keep her from my side.” She leveled a steady stare on the mayor. “As I said, find who did this.”

He bowed. “Yes, my lady.”

Alfred and Diana watched as he walked down the hall. Not taking her eyes from the man’s back, Diana spoke once more. “It will be at least a fortnight before Akko is recovered enough to resume her duties as my Champion, and likely a week before she’ll be able to travel. An attack on her may as well have been on attack on my person. I find this _deeply_ troubling, Alfred.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I want you to have men that you trust investigating Wedinburgh, local men, men that know the city. My gut tells me that this isn’t some random attack, that there is something bigger at play here.”

“Anything we should be looking for, my lady?”

“Rumors. Rumors of plots, rumors of bounties, rumors of dissent.”

“Yes, my lady.” His voice was heavy.

Diana turned towards him, flashing a wan smile. “Worry not, Alfred. The worst of it is behind us, methinks. I am satisfied with Akko’s condition.” She paused before a thought occurred to her. “Oh, and send a few men to inform her family that she was injured but that we anticipate a full recovery…as well as to make sure that they are not in danger if the plot was aimed towards Akko and not towards me.”

He nodded. “And the house physician?”

She drew in a deep, annoyed breath. “The man is a fool, but he caused no harm. Any words with him should be gentle. However, once it has been explained to him how his behavior was unacceptable, should he take it upon himself to act in the same way again…” she trailed off leadingly.

“…then our response shall not be as gentle,” Alfred said with a grin that bore no humor, his moustache bristling slightly.

“Kindness may be the Cavendish creed, but blatant disrespect that was not invited shall not be tolerated.”

“Of course, my lady,” he agreed lightly. “With your leave, Lady Cavendish.”

She hummed, and he began to walk away. “Oh, and Alfred?” she called out before he got too far. He turned back, a curious look on his weather-beaten face. “Both of our safety is now in the hands of you and your men.”

A grim look, then. “Not even the Devil could get through us, my lady. We will protect you both, this I so swear.”

She smiled gently at the words, shoulders sagging slightly at the confident words. “I have no doubt, Alfred. Thank you for all you’ve done and will do.”

“For you and her? All this and so much more, my lady.”

xxxXXXxxx

Akko would awaken in the early hours of the morning, her pained groans rousing Diana from her restless slumber in the high-backed chair she had dragged to the side of the bed. Her eyes fluttered open to see Akko blinking in the dim light of the banked fire in the small fireplace in the wall, her face a grimace of pain. Diana immediately stood, resting a comforting hand on Akko’s shoulder.

Crimson eyes found her face, and Akko frowned in confusion. “Diana?” she rasped softly. “What…happened?”

“You were attacked,” Diana replied, and it was a miracle that she was able to keep her voice steady. “How are you feeling?”

“It hurts,” Akko replied softly, her hand finding her side. “Thirsty.”

Diana turned hurried over to a table set against the wall, where a pitched of watered-down wine sat. She poured Akko a goblet of it and brought it over, watching carefully as Akko greedily drank it, draining the goblet in one go. “How are you feeling?” she asked again with a worried frown.

Akko very carefully pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing the entire time. Once she had managed it, she once more brought her hand to her side, her face thoughtful. “I…don’t think they managed to gut me. I’ve seen that once before, and the man’s screams…I think they missed anything vital.”

Akko had seen a man get gutted? Diana didn’t want to think about that, and so sat on the side of the bed, resting her hand on Akko’s powerfully muscled back, the skin warm even through Akko’s ruined tunic. Now that she was awake, perhaps they could see about getting her into fresh clothes. But that could wait for a few moments. “Akko…do you know who did this to you?” she asked quietly.

Akko froze under her hand, nervous eyes flicking up to meet her gaze. “…yes,” she admitted after a long pause.

“Who?”

Akko bit her lip, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I won’t tell you.”

Diana flinched at that, shock rippling through her at Akko’s soft yet firm words. “Why not?” she asked, trying to keep the disappointment and the anger within.

“Because they already paid dearly for their actions,” Akko said, her voice growing firmer with each word. “Trust me on this one, my lady. I killed three and crippled one while the rest fled. Those men paid enough.”

This was not something that Diana wanted to get into a fight about, not while Akko was still so very pale. But there was one thing that she couldn’t ignore, not now. “My lady?” she whispered, and Akko’s shocked eyes flitted up to her, and somehow her pale face grew even more pallid. “Akko…we’re alone right now. You aren’t acting as my Champion. If there was ever a time for you to not call me that…” she managed to get out before her throat closed up, the corners of her eyes burning with gathering tears. “Akko, I _almost lost you_.”

There was a pained hiss as Akko turned in the bed, wrapping her arms around Diana’s shoulders as she embraced her, and Diana desperately clutched her back as the tears began to run down her cheeks. If Akko had been further away, if her assailants had bothered to chase her down to finish the job, if Diana was not so skilled at medicine…so very many things could have gone wrong.

They two of them stayed like that for a long moment, finding strength and comfort in each other’s arms before Diana’s tears slowed and then stopped. She drew back, staring deep into Akko’s eyes. Seeing the emotion there, she felt a blush touch her cheeks before she was nervously glancing around the room to make absolutely certain that which she knew for a fact:

That they were alone in the room.

To no surprise, her eyes did not find any ne’er-do-wells lurking in the shadowed corners of the room, and so she sighed with relief before her fingers found Akko’s chin. She gently tilted Akko’s face up, a touch of amusement at the way that Akko’s eyes widened coloring the relief and worry that still gripped her after the long day’s events. Then she was leaning down, sighing with relief as their lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

And oh, what a relief it was! Just by merits of their positions, it was so hard to find the time to steal a quiet moment spent together, even at night. That someone might steal upon them was something that Diana dreaded, for even though she couldn’t imagine life without Akko by her side, if they were caught…

…if they were caught, they could lose it all. Not just with other noble families who might pursue an alliance by marriage, but also with her own family. Aunt Daryl…Diana could not imagine what Aunt Diana would do if she discovered Akko and Diana together. That thought, that fear, that _terror_ had made it so Diana was uneasy to let the affection that burned in her breast for her Champion show. But now, Aunt Daryl was miles away in the Cavendish Manor, while Diana and Akko were right here, right now, and they were _alone_. Diana would be a damn fool if she let the opportunity pass them by, especially with how close Akko had come to…

Before that thought could proceed any further, Akko moaned softly against her lips as her left hand came up to cup the side of Diana’s face. Diana leaned into the touch as much as she could without breaking the kiss, heart starting to race in her chest as heat crackled across her skin. Needing to be closer to Akko, she pressed harder into the kiss, her thoughts melting away and instinct taking over as her right hand moving to rest on Akko’s left side-

-only for Akko to cry out in pain, flinching away from their kiss, and Diana felt ice course through her veins as she realized that she had pressed against Akko’s injury. She practically lunged away from Akko, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry!” she choked out, remembering that she needed to be quiet at the very last second, and she only just barely kept from crying out the words.

Akko was breathing heavily, twin spots of color on her too pale cheeks, and she was trembling slightly. “Diana, all is well,” she panted before flashing a grin that did nothing to soothe Diana’s worries. “You just caught me by surprise, is all.” Then she grimaced, plucking at her tunic. “Ugh, I hadn’t realize how dirty this actually was.”

Diana felt relief flood through her at that. Yes. Yes! Something to _do_! Akko needed new clothing. Thankfully Diana was prepared for this and had a servant get a new set of clothes from the tailor’s earlier. It wouldn’t be as good a fit as the clothing that Akko had now, but they could either call the tailor to come in and make alterations or they could wait until Akko was able to make the journey into the city proper herself. But for now, at least, she wouldn’t be in her bloodstained clothes. “Yes, of course!” Diana heard herself say, and she made her way over to the dresser, grabbing the package that lay on top of it before she returned to Akko. “Here, these are for you.”

Akko took the package with a thankful smile before she paused, fidgeting slightly. “Is there was wash basin?” she asked.

There was, but the water in it was cold, they discovered. Diana offered to heat it up first, but Akko shook her head, short brown hair swishing with the gesture. She just wanted to be clean. Then she paused again as a blush blossomed on her pale face. “Begging your pardon, Diana, but might I have some privacy?” she whispered. Diana stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending before she realized the issue:

It wasn’t just the tunic that was bloodstained, it was also her braies and her hose. She would strip completely down before washing off the long dried blood on her legs. For a moment, hurt flared in Diana’s heart. They had taken baths together when they were children, after all! But then, she reminded herself, they _weren’t_ just children, not anymore. They were adults, and this was not a normal bath day by the river for the common folk. There was a very obvious reason why Akko would want to preserve her modesty around Diana…at least for _now_.

Now blushing herself, Diana nodded and excused herself, pausing only to move the washbasin closer to Akko before she went behind the changing screen. But even if she made it so that she couldn’t see Akko, she couldn’t close up her ears. So she listened worriedly as Akko went about her business. First was the soft hiss of pain and rustling of fabric as she removed her tunic, only for there to be a pause, likely as she looked upon her wound for the very first time. The pause turned into a long silence before Akko spoke quietly. “Is this your work?”

“Yes,” Diana replied, just as softly.

“I recognize your, after you helped Bryan earlier this year. No one’s sutures are quite as neat as yours. I feel…relieved, knowing that it was you who tended to me.” The rustling of clothes continued, with the occasional gasp or groan from Akko. “You know, it’s – _ngh_ – kind of interesting…I didn’t even – _hhhh_ – feel it when it happened.”

“Oh?” Diana couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes. I was rather busy at the moment, and didn’t have time for pain,” Akko returned glibly, and Diana chuckled in spite of herself.

“Quite.”

They fell silent at that, and Diana listened as Akko continued cleaning up, the dimly lit air filled with the sound of water sloshing and dripping in the basin, of Akko’s slightly labored breathing, and then of clothes rustling once more as she got dressed. Diana couldn’t say how much later it was when Akko called out softly that she was done and that Diana could come back, and by then, exhaustion from the worry and the effort of tending to Akko’s wounds and of sitting vigil in the hard chair next to the bed weighed heavily upon Diana. It had been a long day, and she looked forward to finally getting some sleep now that she knew for certain that Akko was going to be well and truly better…provided infection didn’t sit in.

So she walked out from behind the changing screen and smiled warmly at Akko as she crossed the room to the closed door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she promised.

But just as her hand closed on the pull ring of the door, Akko held up a reaching hand, a look of desperation on her face. “Wait-” she croaked, her eyes wide, and Diana froze, turning all her attention to Akko. “Can you…Diana, I…stay with me?” she begged, her voice hitching. “I don’t…I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Diana’s hand had fallen off the ring, and she bit her lip as she glanced at the door, uncertainty raging in her heart. What if someone caught them in the same bed together?

But then Akko sniffled. “I can’t put a brave face on it anymore,” she croaked as she began to wipe at her eyes, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I was so _scared_ I wouldn’t make it back to you, that I’d die bleeding in the street and you wouldn’t _know_ and you’d _worry_ and-”

Diana crossed the room in four broad steps before she reached the bed, and she was embracing Akko once more, holding her close as she eased the two of them to the bed carefully and slowly, so as to not agitate Akko’s injury. She would stay. More accurately, she _couldn’t_ leave, not now, not when Akko needed her. If anyone questioned them, well…they were both still clothed, there was only the one bed, and Akko was her patient and Champion both. Diana would therefore logically want to be as close to her as possible in case her condition worsened. Yes, that’s what she’d say.

It was a mercy that they were both exhausted, and Akko’s tears didn’t last all that long. Not long after they stopped, they both fell asleep, Akko still cradled in Diana’s arms, her breathing deep and slow as she fell asleep, Diana remaining awake only a little while longer as she gazed down at the woman in her arms, love and concern and the desire to keep her safe swelling up in her heart. Akko had already spent so much time and effort protecting Diana. Now it was Diana’s turn to protect Akko as best she could.

The next morning, they would find that they weren’t the only ones protecting each other. Just before dawn and while most of the household still lay quietly sleeping, the door to the room Diana and Akko were sleeping in creaked softly open, and Lotte slipped through the narrow opening the moment she had enough room to do so, and she closed it quietly behind her. Then she turned to the two sleeping in the bed, now firmly entangled in each other’s limbs, and a tender smile touched Lotte’s lips before she stole forward, the smile widening to a grin before she reached down, gently shaking the two of them awake. Diana jolted awake, and for a moment, she stared up at Lotte with naked fear in her eyes even as Akko mumbled a sleepy protest as she burrowed deeper into Diana’s arms…but then she noticed the conspiratorial glimmer in her lady-in-waiting’s eyes and the understanding in her smile as she held a single finger up to her lips. The message she was giving them was clear: _your secret is safe with me_.

Diana relaxed, then, heaving a sigh of relief even as Akko stretched herself more fully awake, and Diana offered a thankful smile to Lotte, who only shrugged in response. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice soft. “It is clear…the love between you, for those that know how to look.” Diana frowned at that, worry gnawing at her heart, only for Lotte to shake her head again. “Rest assured, my lady. There are precious few who know how to look. They see and accept the devotion of a Champion to Her Lady and do not bother to look deeper at what lays beneath.”

Then her face grew serious and determined. “She protects you with sword and shield. You protect her with station and knowledge and a healing hand. Let me protect your love as best I can, my lady. It is the very least I can do to repay you both for your kindness.”

Diana paused, thinking that one over for a moment. Then Akko’s fingers tightened in the fabric of Diana’s gown. “I trust her, Diana,” she said, quiet voice resolute in the dimness of the room.

Diana nodded at that. What else could she do? “I trust her, too,” she said softly, offering a smile up at Lotte, and now more than ever she regretted the insinuation of her harsh words to Lotte yesterday. “I trust you and your devotion, Lotte. And…thank you.”

Lotte’s smile turned beaming, and Diana felt a weight lift up off of her shoulders. Having someone they could trust know about them was a relief she didn’t know she needed. One thing was for certain, though:

Lotte was no longer _just_ Diana’s lady-in-waiting, she was well and truly Diana and Akko’s friend, and the three of them would protect one another, no matter the cost.


	10. This Cruel Mercy of Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is to Diana's immense relief that, save for an incident born from Akko's own nature, she is healing well. Alas, that is not the only thing that has Diana's attention, and she received a letter from Barbara that she takes great interest in. But news from outside of her county is the least of her worries, and she finds herself getting into another argument with Akko about what should be the fate of those that attacked her Champion.
> 
> Will the two of them be able to find common ground, or will a rift grow between them?

This Cruel Mercy of Ours

Diana sighed heavily as she placed her quill back into the inkwell, careful not to drag her sleeves in the still wet ink on the piece of parchment that she had been writing a letter to the Englands on. Across the room lit by daylight pouring in through the tall, narrow windows supplemented by candles, Akko grew still on the chair that she was sitting on, and she very carefully looked everywhere except at Diana as she fairly glared at her champion. “Akko?” she called out, only for Akko to jump a little in her chair before she turned guilty eyes towards Diana.

“Yes, my lady?” she asked meekly, a small and timid smile touching her lips.

Diana wasn’t having any of it. “You know what I’m about to say,” she said flatly.

Akko immediately groaned dramatically, leaning far back in her chair as she threw an arm over her eyes. “But I’m so boooored, Diana!” she whined.

Diana frowned at the drawn out complaint. “And I’ll be rightly furious if you pull out your stitches again!” she snapped. “You’re still healing, and need to be still enough for the stitches to do what they’re supposed to. It would have been a small enough scar had you not agitated the wound and torn the stitches because you disregarded my orders and practiced your sword work!”

Akko had the good grace to flinch at that, her eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said, and Diana could tell that she meant it. “But…ugh, I _hate_ waiting! Especially since we know that something isn’t quite right. I need to be ready for something else happening _now_.”

Diana grimaced as she pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Well, because you couldn’t wait, you added a day or two on to your recovery. I know it’s hard, Akko, I really do, but you have to _listen_. I need you back at your full strength as soon as possible, and that entails being bored and not moving around so much that you hurt yourself again.”

Akko pouted at that before she glanced towards the door where Lotte sat at a small table, embroidering one of the new wimples that she had purchased at Diana’s behest under the light of a candelabrum. Lotte noticed the glance, lowering her stitch work as her eyes flitted over to Diana, who had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at what was not being said. Ever since it had become clear that Lotte was willing to support them in…in whatever the two of them were, Akko had been, well, Diana didn’t want to say taking advantage of her lady-in-waiting, but…

Though, to be fair, she grudgingly admitted to herself as she gave the slightest of nods, it wasn’t as though Akko had ever given a direct order not related to Diana’s safety to Lotte. No, she just gave that needy little look, and Lotte would turn to Diana for direction, and more often than not, Diana acquiesced to the unspoken request. At Diana’s nod, Lotte neatly folded up her work and placed it on the table’s surface, blowing out the candles at her table before she slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her. Then her voice could be heard through the thick wooden door as she conversed with the guards stationed at the door. Whatever her discussion with the men was, it would buy Diana and Akko a few moments where they didn’t have to worry about anyone coming through the door, giving them a brief period of privacy.

One that they would take full advantage of. Diana stood away from her desk, striding across the room before gracefully sitting in one of the empty chairs next to Akko. Her champion was already grinning eagerly, and didn’t have to be told to get out of her chair so that she could sit in Diana’s lap, her warm weight firm and comforting. Still, this wasn’t all for their enjoyment. Diana frowned in concentration as she lifted up the hem of Akko’s tunic slightly, exposing her healing wound. Diana felt a brief twinge of annoyance at the sight of it.

Her first sutures had been as perfect as they could have been, and the scar really would have been almost unnoticeable against Akko’s skin. But no, she just _had_ to go out and practice her sword forms. It didn’t matter that they had been ‘just the light ones’ as Akko had insisted. The exercise had torn the wound back open, and the half-healed flesh wasn’t going to mend as well as before, no matter how well Diana had tried to do with the second set of sutures. Oh, but she had been furious!

Even now, she felt the anger returning, thankfully just embers of true rage, but there nonetheless. Still, despite her ire, she was very careful to keep her touch light and gentle as she drew her thumb across the still angry red line on Akko’s side. At least it had healed enough that it didn’t need to be kept bandaged anymore. Quite honestly, Akko probably could start doing light exercises now, but Diana wanted to give it a few more days before she let Akko do anything more strenuous than lounge about reading or playing board games or talking, just to be sure.

“How’s it look?” Akko murmured softly, and Diana lifted her eyes to stare deep into her Champion’s gaze, happily getting lost in it.

“Better. Only a few more days, and you’ll be fine,” Diana replied softly. Honestly, save for when Akko tore out the first stitches, it was going as well as Diana could hope for. Akko had only had a slight fever that was coupled with inflammation around the wound for one day. The mayor’s surgeon had heard about that and had offered his opinion – very politely and with several uneasy glances towards Alfred who stood closely by, looking on with an intense gaze that never once strayed from the man – that perhaps it would be wise to let out some of Akko’s blood in order to restore her humors to how they were before her injury. Diana had politely but firmly declined. She knew that she and her mother and many of the Cavendishes that came before were very much unlike the other doctors of their time, and also knew very well that some of their treatments were considered outlandish if not outright insane. Yes, the human body was controlled by the four humors, yellow bile, phlegm, black bile, and blood, each of them tied to one of the four elements. That was not what Diana doubted. No, what she doubted was that bloodletting actually _did_ anything. The three other humors, yes, absolutely, drain them from the body whenever possible. She had been prepared to do so if the wound had started excreting pus. But from her own observations, bloodletting was very rarely beneficial. No, Akko would keep all of her blood within her for the time being.

The physician had wanted to argue, Diana had seen that in his face, but he had taken one glance at Alfred before he stiffly excused himself. Ah, well, at least this time he had been polite, and he really was merely trying to help. Diana thanked him for his service even as she knew that the man would never think kindly of her. Shame, that.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she smiled up at Akko as her hand moved away from the healing wound, instead cupping her side, Akko’s skin smooth and warm under her palm and fingers. Akko didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to, really, not when her expression was saying everything that needed to be said, a grin touching her lips as she placed her hands on Diana’s shoulder, only to slide them up under Diana’s wimple. Diana couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of Akko’s calloused fingertips dancing teasingly against the skin of her neck only to thread through Diana’s hair at the base of her head.

Then Akko was dipping down, and Diana barely managed to stifle the soft whimper that clawed at her through as Akko’s fingers began to gently scratch at her scalp as their lips met. Diana exhaled, long and slow as her hand pressed more firmly against Akko’s side as her thumb dragged lazy circles against soft, firm skin. Oh, but if this moment could only last forever!

A gentle knock at the door, and the two of them broke apart with a gasp, their faces flushed and breaths coming quickly. They both glanced over to the door. “My apologies, my lady,” came Lotte’s soft voice through the wood. “A messenger has arrived for you.”

Diana and Akko glanced at one another, and Akko shrugged with an apologetic grimace as she slid off of Diana’s lap and stood back as she tugged at her tunic to remove any wrinkles. Diana took a deep breath to center herself as her fingers came up, ensuring that her wimple and veil were in order before she, too, stood, walking back over to her desk where the letter to Hannah still sat unfinished. “Show them in,” she ordered as she gracefully sat down once more.

Akko gave a short bow, her face a careful mask that was not marred by the wince that the same bow would have prompted earlier in the week. “Yes, my lady,” she replied as she easily slid into her role as Diana’s champion, the role that she had trained so long for. Her strides were confident as she crossed the room and opened the heavy door, revealing Lotte, the two guards, and a man bearing the livery of the Parker family. “Your business with her lady?” Akko asked in a firm voice.

The herald bowed fluidly. “A message, Sir…” he replied smoothly before he floundered slightly, eyes sweeping up and down Akko’s form, “…err, Dame Knight. From the Viscount Parker.” He dug in the satchel at his before producing a roll of parchment secured with a ribbon and sealed with wax. At Diana’s slight nod, Akko took the message, weighing it slightly in her hands before she brought it over to Diana, passing it over.

Diana took it as she absently waved the man into the room. “Is there an immediate reply requested?” she asked as the man stepped through the door, followed by the two guards, and Lotte returned to her small table where she lifted one of the candles from its holder.

“No, my lady,” the man respectfully replied with another bow. “At least none that is known to me.” Silence, then, broken only by the sound of Diana breaking the wax seal that bore the Parker’s signet and unrolling the parchment while Lotte crossed the room. Diana spared Lotte a glance while her lady-in-waiting lit her candle with one of the ones on Diana’s desk before she turned her attention to the parchment as Lotte returned to her table. It wasn’t a terribly long missive, and she scanned over it quickly, instantly recognizing Barbara’s handwriting as she checked to see if there was anything terribly urgent or concerning in it.

Hmm, there didn’t seem to be. “Very good,” she said, words absent as she took a more careful second glance, checking for any of the codes that she had developed with Barbara and Hannah during their tutelage together, so that they might pass secret information to each other without anyone being the wiser. Ah, there was. Right, so what was Barbara-?

She blinked, her eyes widening slightly. Humming to herself as she fought to keep composed in front of the guards and the messenger, she rolled up the parchment and put it aside on her desk. That would require much more attention when there weren’t unwanted witnesses. “Thank you,” she told the messenger as she pulled her coin purse from its drawer, and she took the standard rate from it before handing the coins to Akko, who crossed the room to give it to the man who bowed gratefully. “No reply, other than give my compliments to the Viscount and his family. We should hope to meet again sometime soon, it has been too long.” The herald bowed once more, and Diana nodded to the two guards, who escorted him out, the door shutting behind them.

Akko turned towards Diana with a curious frown, as was Lotte from where she was sitting. “What news from the Parkers?” Akko asked, left hand fluttering at her side for a moment before dropping, and Diana realized her hand was looking for the pommel of her sword that Diana had insisted that she not wear after she had torn out her stitches. Maybe tomorrow she could start wearing it again…

Oh, that’s right, Akko had asked a question. Diana picked up the parchment, unrolling it once more as she read it over more carefully. It mostly discussed the weather before going on to discuss gossip and scandals, what family was discussing marriage plans with another, whose son or daughter went against the wishes of their parents. For all the world, it seemed like nothing more than the bored ramblings of an empty-headed noblewoman to one of her friends, but that was the beauty of it. Most people only saw what they wanted to see, which gave Diana, Hannah, and Barbara a large degree of freedom when talking about serious matters. Behind the clever façade lay…

Diana glanced at Lotte. “Call in the guards.” Once the two men were in the room, Diana had them off on some trivial chore or another. Well, perhaps not _trivial_ , as she wouldn’t dare to insult the men by having them do anything below their station as her guardsmen, but she did send them both off on missions that would have them leaving their post at the door for a moment. Sensing their hesitation to leave the three of them unguarded, Diana smiled reassuringly. “We will be fine for a few moments, as we are not left completely defenseless,” she said with a pointed glance towards where Akko’s sword rest against the wall, propped against her shield.

That seemed to rid the two of any misgivings they might have, and they nodded before leaving. Once it was clear that they were gone, Diana’s gaze returned to Lotte as she continued speaking. “If you wouldn’t mind standing at the door to ensure that none draw close enough to hear,” she said, and Lotte nodded, her face betraying her concern. “I will inform you later, I promise. Believe me when I say that you are trusted, Lotte, in a way that so very few are.”

Lotte bowed at that. “As you wish, my lady,” she murmured respectfully before dipping out the door, closing it behind her. There was a brief moment, and then a single rap against the wood. The signal for all clear.

Diana turned to Akko gesturing her closer. Some of these walls were thin, and she dared not speak any louder than necessary, not about this. She trusted Akko and Lotte and Alfred and Anna. Anyone else? She couldn’t trust, not with this. Akko stepped closer, leaning in, and Diana started speaking.

“Given some of the rumors that have been going around as well as the discontent around the kingdom, I have felt it necessary to begin making plans. I have been sending missives to Hannah and to Barbara instructing them to start quietly assembling allies who we can band together with if there is another revolt amongst the Barons.”

Akko sucked in a sharp breath, rocking back on her heels as she digested that, a profoundly worried look on her face. “Diana…my lady, that’s _dangerous_. If the King finds out, then he might think that you are plotting against him. Word has it that he’s starting to see plots around him, and if he finds out that you are building an alliance with other nobles under his nose…”

Diana nodded gravely. “Yes, and this is precisely why you must never speak a word of this to anyone else.” She hesitated, thinking it over for a moment, hating the decision that she suddenly came to. “Do not even speak of it to Alfred.”

Akko’s eyes widened, and she gave Diana a stricken look. “You suspect Alfred of disloyalty?” she gasped.

Diana emphatically shook her head. “No, I trust him, completely and wholly. But in the even that we must abandon the manor and suddenly flee, I do not want to put him into a situation where he must choose between service to me or the safety of his family.”

Akko just looked more confused at that, brows knitting together. “But what situation could there be where he would have to make such a choice? Abandoning Wedinburgh to an enemy would surely place his family at the mercy of the foemen, right? And in turn, we’d be abandoning him and the others if we fled! Diana, how could we _do_ something like that?”

Diana didn’t answer.

Akko stared at her for a moment before Diana saw the realization dawn in her eyes. “Diana…no, you don’t think?” she whispered hoarsely, and she very carefully not to actually say it.

Diana’s fingers drummed on the desk’s surface. “I don’t think, I suspect. I have no proof, but I can’t help but wonder…why did those blackguards target you? I suppose it could make sense that someone try to remove you in order to make me more vulnerable, but none of the mayor’s men have found any hint of a rumor of a plot against me. That alone could draw suspicions towards the mayor, but our own men have confirmed such things. Who do we know who hate you and not me?”

Now it was Akko’s turn to not answer that question. After a long, uncomfortable moment, she looked to the side. “There is one flaw in your theory, my lady,” she said softly. “The men who attacked me weren’t assassins or blackguards, they were just men from the city. If there was an actual plot against me, then why use them and not men used to killing?”

Diana sighed. “I don’t know.” Then she frowned slightly. “But I might be able to find that out if you actually told me the names of some of your assailants so that they might be brought to proper justice.”

Akko’s jaw stubbornly set. “I will not willingly fuel your desire for vengeance, Lady Cavendish,” she said stiffly as she stood taller.

Diana frowned at that. “I do not desire vengeance, Akko!”

Akko’s head tilted slightly to the side as she quirked a brow. “Then will you accept that I punished them well enough for their transgressions when it happened? I killed three of their ranks and wounded others. Is that not enough punishment for one stab?”

Diana’s fingers curled into a fist. “I am the Countess of Wedinburgh, it is my responsibility to uphold the King’s Law. Lawless knaves attacking my champion must be punished.”

Akko nodded. “This is true. And they have been punished. If it is your responsibility to uphold the law, it is _my_ responsibility to protect you.” She paused a beat, eyes growing far more wise than Diana felt entirely comfortable with. “Even from yourself, if that be so necessary.”

Diana stood, flushing angrily. “How can you say such a dreadful thing?!” she hissed.

“Because I know what your mother would say about all this.”

That was like a slap to the face, and Diana rocked back with a shocked gasp, staring at Akko in horror. “How…how _dare_ you-” she started, only for three sharp knocks to sound at the door.

Before she could say anything else, the door opened, Alfred poking his head into the room. His eyes flitted between the two of them. “Pardon my intrusion, my lady, Dame Kagari,” he said. “But this was something that I felt you needed to know. They found one of the men who assaulted Dame Kagari.”

Diana took in a breath as she stared Akko down. “Very good. We shouldn’t have had to wait this long, but now, at least, true justice shall be dispensed.” Her finger tapped at the desk. “Where is he?”

“He is being brought to the dungeons, my lady.”

She nodded. “Very well. I shall go speak with the man personally.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “In the interest of you not opening your wound again, you shall remain here and keep watch of Lotte and this room, Dame Kagari.”

“No.”

Everyone froze at that, their wide-eyed gazes landing on Akko where she stood, her demeanor calm and collected. Diana felt her jaw clenching.

“Would you care to repeat that, my champion?” she ground out.

“I said no, my lady. I cannot in good conscience allow you to go and see that man as you are now. I care for you far too much to let that happen.”

“Are you defying me?”

“No, I am protecting you. I know that, given time, you will understand and even be thankful for my decision, even if now you…” she petered off, her strong voice cracking and wavering, a flash of hurt flitting through her expressive eyes. “Even if you hate me for it right now.”

Another slap to the face, and Diana froze. Hate Akko? She could _never_ hate Akko! Was that what she thought right now? “I must see this man, you have to understand this.”

Akko paused, thinking that one over, and Diana prayed that she saw the truth to it. It truly was something that she needed to do, regardless of either her or Akko’s feelings on the matter. Normally an assault would be handled by the courts, but an assault on Akko was an assault on the Cavendish family. As the Countess, Diana was directly connected with the proceedings. Then Akko nodded. “Then swear on your family that you will listen to the man and be full of mercy on any decisions that you make.”

If it meant that this rift between them could be lessened, could be healed, then yes. A thousand times yes. “I so swear it, that I will regard him with mercy worthy of the Cavendish name.”

Akko nodded, relaxing slightly, and she smiled gratefully. “Thank you, my lady. It means more than you know to hear you say that.”

The city’s dungeons were part of the keep that housed the city’s guards and court and other administrative offices that made sure the city and her dealings ran smoothly. As was to be expected of a man of his position, the mayor’s grand house was located in the same district as the keep, as were the houses of the other minor nobles that held important offices with the city and the county beyond. Diana did not go to the keep alone, of course. No, she went with a contingent of her household guards, with Alfred leading the way, his booming voice ordering all others on the crowded streets to make way for the Countess of Wedinburgh, and Diana was aware of the curious gazes on her as she rode by, her palfrey practically prancing at the attention. If she weren’t in public, Diana would have rolled her eyes at Beatrix’s antics. But no, she kept a cool and noble air about her as they made their way to the keep. She was more apt to focus her attentions and time on the manors and towns surrounding Wedinburgh, and really hadn’t been too visible for the peoples of the city itself. Something likely to change with the castle being renovated…

The Bailiff of the Hundred Court was waiting in the courtyard beyond the keep’s gate, and he bowed respectfully as Diana and her entourage entered the fort. “A good day to you, my lady,” he called out as she dismounted. “I presume that you are here about the man that your guards brought in?”

“Yes, good bailiff,” she replied as a stable hand ran up, taking Beatrix’s reins from Diana’s hand, leading the mare to the stables as Diana strode up to the man, Alfred and his guards flanking her. “Take me to him.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he said with another bow before he led them into the fortified keep.

The dungeons were damp and poorly lit, the smell of filth and misery heavy in the air, though Diana did not let her distaste show on her face. She _was_ careful, however, to discretely lift the skirt of her dress so that it wouldn’t drag on the floor of this place. Not a few of the cells were occupied by rough looking men and women who glared at her from behind iron doors, the floors of their cells covered with rotting straw and little else. One bold fool saw them coming and reached down, grabbing the bucket that Diana presumed was used to collect his waste. Alfred saw and did not say a word, but he leveled his spear in clear warning: throw that at any of us and suffer the consequences. Diana almost hoped that this defiant man was the one who had assaulted Akko, as that would have made things simpler and any mercy she was now sworn to show would be tempered by his own coarseness.

But no, the Bailiff led them past his cell, and he spat on the floor behind them well after they passed, showing his anger without risking any retribution. Diana ignored the gesture. After all, it was useless and would not change his position. Let him have his sullen anger.

They were led still further before the Bailiff finally came to a stop, gesturing into a cell. “We put him here, well inside the place, as we know his crime is worthy of the extra security,” he said before shrugging, glancing at the roughhewn stone walls that dripped with moisture. “And the added discomfort.”

Diana spared him a glance before she stepped up to the cage doors, glancing inside. What she saw forced a shocked gasp to fall from her lips, and any thoughts of justice or punishment fled away at the sight of him.

He was ill. Terribly, terribly ill, his face waxen and his eyes sunken deep into their sockets, shining fever bright as he looked up at her. A dry tongue came out to sweep at cracked lips, and he hugged the stump of his arm closer to his chest. A stump that was swaddled with filthy, blood-soaked bandages. She studied the bandage for a moment, her nose picking up the smell of rot that was almost lost amid the stench of the rest of this place. Then she looked back to his face, meeting his tortured stare, holding for a long, long moment. She saw many things, but she did not see anger or hatred. No, what she saw was terrible regret and guilt.

“Unlock the door,” she ordered, and when Alfred began to protest, she held up her hand. “My order will not be ignored. Open this door. Now.” The Bailiff did so, swinging the iron door wide open. Diana held out her hand. “Give me something to kneel on.”

“My _lady!_ ” Alfred gasped, but Diana kept her hand out, not lowering it. Alfred hesitated a moment before he began to move, leaning his spear against the wall and taking off his sword belt before he pulled off his own surcoat bearing Diana’s coat of arms before handing it to her.

She folded it neatly before stepping into the cell, laying the surcoat on the floor. Kneeling on it so she was level with the man, she gestured at his ruined arm. “May I?”

He stared at her for a moment before he leaned closer, the smell of rot growing significantly stronger as he offered his swaddled stump. Diana pushed back her sleeves before she began to unwrap the filthy bandages, and a few moments later, her stomach sank as she uncovered the wound. Angry red streaks ran up his arm well past the ugly wound, disappearing under the sleeve of his tunic. As for the wound itself…

She felt gorge rising in her throat, and she swallowed heavily. “Was a physician called for?” she asked over her shoulder.

The Bailiff answered. “Yes, my lady. But you are skilled in those arts. What say you?”

Diana didn’t answer him, gaze still focused on the wound.

Heavily infected, with pus and blood still fitfully leaking from the end of the stump, and the meat and flesh around it was turning green. Her gaze returned once more to the red streaks, and then to his face, those feverish eyes hopeless as the met her gaze. “If you had come in even two or three days before now, I might have been able to help.”

“I know, my lady,” he said, his voice a rattling croak. “Is she…is she well?”

For a moment, she considered not answering him, but then she realized that he had only had concern in his voice when he asked the question. “She is well on the road to recovery,” she said before continuing on in an exasperated mutter. “Be further along if she didn’t tear her stitches out by refusing to sit still.”

The man snorted, and then let out a short laugh that turned into a deep, rattling cough. Once the fit subsided, he shook his head. “If that isn’t young Atsuko, I don’t know what is! Why, when she was just a young lass, she…she…” Whatever Akko had done, Diana would never learn as the man started to sob, his hand fisting in the rotten straw. “I was so damned afraid that we killed her!”

“You regret it, then?” Diana asked softly.

“Regret it? God as my witness, I don’t know why it happened at all! We were just going to tell her off, heckle her for leaving us in the Burrows, but attack her? Try to _kill_ her? I never thought I’d do such a thing but…by the Mother Mary, I was just so _angry!_ ”

Diana shook her head, blinking in confusion. “But why even tell her off in the first place? Why not be proud of her accomplishments? She’s my champion, why not praise her for what she’s earned?”

He hesitated, fidgeting slightly. “There’ve been some men. Rough folk, not from here. Saying that anyone who made it so Akko isn’t your champion anymore would be well rewarded. We didn’t want to actually hurt her, but scare her? Bring her back home? We could do that, but then…” he paused, shuddering, a look or horror stealing over his face. “But then that damnable anger. I’ve never felt such anger before or since.”

“Demons,” came Alfred’s mutter from behind Diana, but she ignored him. Demons could interfere with the affairs of man, but Diana had yet to encounter such a thing. This might be that first time, but…

“Is there anything else you can think of?” she asked gently.

He frowned, breath started to come more heavily as his eyes roved under heavy-lidded eyes. Finally, after a long moment, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. We had been drinking, and then she had shown up, her face bright and happy and so damn pure that it just pissed us off. Then when we were talking to her, the anger just grew and grew and the crows made it so hard to think and-”

Diana felt herself sit up straighter, her brows furrowing. “Wait, crows?” she asked.

The man blinked, his eyes going blank in thought. “Yes,” he said slowly. “There were crows. So many crows. Odd that I didn’t-” he started before breaking into another fit of coughing. Even as he coughed, Diana’s mind was racing as she remembered seeing the white crow, which in turn made her think of those two strange women in the woods all those years ago.

Her skin prickled. If those women were involved in this…she set her jaw, resolving to ask Akko if she remembered the crows on the day of her attack. Diana’s instincts were telling her that the crows were _important_ , more important than it seemed.

The man’s coughs slowed, and then ended, and he knelt there, gasping for breath, his face paler than it had been before. He was also trembling heavily. “What…what now?” he asked between heaving breaths.

Diana rocked back slightly. “I believe you when you say that you hadn’t intended to harm Akko. That a demon or other such entity drove you into a fit of madness can be used as a defense. But…” she trailed off as her gaze dropped to his arm.

“But I’m dying.”

How hopeless those hollow words were, how full of terrible knowledge. He was too far gone, the infection in his blood, spread across his body. There was nothing they could do. “Yes,” Diana admitted simply.

He took a deep breath, a tear streaking down his pale, sunken cheek. “Why did this have to happen to me?” he asked softly, his gaze lost.

Diana’s heart sank as she remembered her oath. She had sworn to be merciful, hadn’t she? “Your name?” she asked softly, her eyes dropping to her lap.

A long silence answered her before he spoke. “Tobias, my lady. Tobias Fletcher.”

“Have you a family?”

“Yes, my lady. A wife, five children.”

Now it was Diana’s turn to stay silent for a long, terrible moment, and she hated herself for what she had to ask next. But she _had_ to ask it. “Good Bailiff,” she called over her shoulder. “Is the executioner ready?”

There was an uneasy shifting from those behind her. “Well, yes, my lady, but there’s not been any trial. If we…”

“Tobias Fletcher. If you proclaim innocence now, I will give you the care you need, should you ask for it. But I believe that your wound has festered and spread to the rest of your body. What time you have left will be filled with agony until you succumb.” Her hands fisted in her lap, and she felt tears gather in her eyes. She felt so damn helpless right now! Something had happened to this man, drove him to attack someone that he had known for years, and he obviously regretted it, was obviously concerned for Akko, but that didn’t matter.

He was going to die, and there was nothing Diana could do to stop it.

“My lady…I, Tobias Fletcher, attacked a Common Knight and the Champion of the Countess of Wedinburgh. I was not in my right mind when it happened, but it was my hand that held the dagger that wounded her. I am guilty. I admit it.” A groan of pain, and he grimaced. “I accept m-my punishment!”

A cleared throat behind her. “Let all ye who are gathered as witnesses here, that I, Gerald Blakethorne, Bailiff of the Hundred Court, have heard the admission of the man Tobias Fletcher. By his own words, he is proclaimed-”

“Innocent,” Diana cut in as she stood, gathering up the surcoat she had been kneeling on. “A demon possessed him and goaded him to attack my Champion. He is a goodly Christian man. Let that be what the records show.” She turned to them. “Call for a priest, let him confess his final sins. When his head lies on the executioner’s block, it will be as a man wholly innocent.” She grimaced, turning to face Tobias. “I am so very deeply sorry, good Fletcher, but will you accept this cruel mercy of ours? I have no other mercies to offer you.”

He hesitated only a moment before he nodded. “Do you…do you believe I will bask in His grace? Shall I kneel before Him” he whispered, voice tortured.

Diana paused for a very short moment before she walked back into his cell, crouching and resting her hand on his shoulder. “I have no doubt, Tobias Fletcher. This was not your fault. You will be absolved. I also swear that your family will be taken care of, that they will not know need. I am truly sorry that this has happened to you.”

He gave what could only be described as a cross between a grimace and a smile. “So am I, my lady.”

Diana would stay with him until the last, standing by as he was brought back up into the courtyard where his priest was waiting for him. She watched as the gates were closed and all the guards on the walls turned to face away to give the man some privacy as he knelt and placed his neck on the block. She refused to look away as the executioner lifted his great axe and brought it down. She owed the man that much.

Staring at the body, she took a deep breath. “This should not have happened. Find those men that are plotting against Akko. Tobias Fletcher died for their wickedness, and I will not rest easily until they pay for his death. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my lady,” Alfred said. “And the others who were in the group that attacked Dame Atsuko?”

Diana turned away from where they were bundling up the body so that it could be buried in the graveyard of Tobias Fletcher’s church and started walking towards where the stable hand was standing by with Beatrix. “What others?” she asked softly.

Tobias Fletcher may have died this day because that was the only mercy that she could show him. But she would be damned if the men who put the thought to confront Akko in his head got away with their deeds. She would not rest until they were swinging from a gallows. Of that she was certain!


	11. Waiting and Worrying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was one thing that Akko hated to do, it was to stay idle. Thus, having to wait for Diana's return was nothing less than torture for her. But what else could she do? All she could do was wait and pray that Diana would not give in to the anger that ate at her, that she would return to Akko as _Diana_.

Waiting and Worrying

Akko was not by nature a patient woman. She hated waiting with a passion, would much prefer to be up and doing something, _anything_ than waiting while the world passed by around her. This had been quite a bother when she was still a child and had received more scoldings than she cared to remember from her mother when at home and from Anna while she was at the Cavendish Manor. Sir Alric had been one of the first to actually be pleased with the rambunctious energy she possessed. After all, she had a very great challenge to overcome as one of the extremely few women in a world utterly dominated by rough men trained for years in how to kill people. “Better to act now and strike fast rather than wait and lose what little advantage your boldness might when you,” he had said once, after she had moved beyond being a simple page and had fully become a squire. “Good that your very nature favors such boldness and I don’t have to beat it into you,” he had concluded with a grin.

It had been something she had taken well to heart. After all, ‘ _Audentes Fortuna Juvat_ ,’ Fortune Favors the Bold. In a battle, every moment she wasted trying to figure out something to do was a moment lost, a moment that favored men who were almost certainly stronger than her. Her safety lay in striking first and striking fast, keeping her opponents off balance and finishing the fight as soon as possible. And now that she was Diana’s champion, any moment she hesitated could be a moment that Diana was in danger.

Such a thing was unthinkable.

So yes, not just by her nature but also by her fourteen long years of training: sitting idle when she could be doing _something_ grated at her. It had prompted her to pick up her sword and train before she should have, pulling out her stitches and very much earning Diana’s ire, but she hadn’t been able to stand sitting and doing nothing for a minute longer. So perhaps it was fitting punishment that now there was nothing that she could do except wait for Diana’s return from the dungeons.

She hated it. So much fear and uncertainty roiled through her gut that she felt ill. Would Diana keep her word? Which one of the men had they found? What was Diana going to do when she came face to face with one of the men who tried to kill Akko? Diana was, at heart, a good and merciful person, but the rage that had danced in the depths of her blue eyes had scared Akko, it scared her in a way that she couldn’t put into words. She scarcely dared to think about it. Akko already knew that Diana was two different people. She _had_ to be in order to survive in this tense world of theirs. There was the Diana who looked at Akko with gentle affection in her eyes, who was just _Diana_.

The other was the Countess of Wedinburgh, a noblewoman whose decisions could end lives. The Countess would send levies off to war should the king (or her noble peers if dissatisfaction with King Henry III grew much more) called upon her to do so. She could preside over trials and decide that the only just punishment was death by hanging or the headsman’s axe. It was her word that decided what crops were grown, what taxes were gathered, and so much more, and before now, she was her mother’s daughter, ruling with grace and mercy.

But that anger…that deep, dark, roiling rage.

Akko shivered as she stood there, staring at the closed door, only just barely aware of how Lotte fidgeted, looking supremely distressed as her eyes roamed the room, only to rest on Akko for a moment before sliding away and glancing nervously about once more.

There was nothing Akko could do besides wait. Wait and hope that the woman who returned to her was the same woman who left, that she wouldn’t give in to the fury that ate at her. Akko prayed that the woman who came back would be someone who she recognized.

Without saying a word, she walked over to her sword and picked it up before moving over to one of the chairs. She placed the sword in the chair before she grasped its heavy back and dragged it across the floor, wood groaning in protest as she slowly and carefully made her way to the window, feeling the stitches tugging at her skin at her side. But not as bad as before, and she was able to reach the outer wall without opening her wound for a second time.

Breathing slightly heavily, she positioned the chair so that it was in front of and facing one of the tall, narrow windows that could serve as an arrow loop should the need arise, and she pushed open the horn shutters, letting in more daylight as the streets beyond were revealed, the sounds of the city folk going about their business flowing through the window. With a slight groan of relief, she picked up her sword and sat down in the chair, fingers of her right hand grasping her sword’s hilt as she stared out the window, waiting for Diana to return but dreading what that return might bring with it.

 _Please, Diana, come back to me,_ she prayed, her left hand coming up to play with the simple lead crucifix around her neck as she stared out the window. _Please, God, let her be filled with Your mercy!_ Akko knew she was utterly devoted to Diana, cared for her more than any other person in all of Creation, and the thought of losing her scared Akko to death.

A flare of doubt. Maybe she should have insisted on going. She bit her lip nervously as her mind raced, heart heavy in her chest as she recalled the conversation, seeing in her mind’s eye Diana’s expressions with each passing line. The one thing she regretted was bringing up Lady Bernadette. At the time and in the heat of the moment she had felt it necessary, had hoped that the mention of her would help bring Diana back to her. After all, Lady Bernadette would hate to see that darkness in her daughter’s eyes, would agree with Akko and her position on the matter. But bringing her up…it was a mistake. It had only hurt Diana, had made her angrier at Akko, and had well and truly convinced her to order Akko to remain here in the mayor’s house. And oh, what a terrible gamble it had been to tell Diana no. Refusing an order from her lady? That was simply madness, especially since Diana’s command hadn’t been too outlandish. She wasn’t ordering Akko to do anything wrong, she was just telling her to stay put.

And Akko had said _no_. She said no, knowing that with each word that passed her lips, she was very likely widening the rift between the two of them. She didn’t know how she had managed to keep the courage to continue what she was doing, to keep speaking what she felt to be true and just, even as Diana had flinched away from her like Akko had physically struck her. But for all the courage that Akko had in her, she couldn’t stop the words of what she feared the most from spilling into the tense air between them:

That Diana might hate her for this.

Akko had all the faith in the world for Diana, knew that once the hot fires of her anger had cooled, she would realize that Akko was right in all of this, that mercy was the more righteous choice, but right now, she was still so very furious, and by defying her will, Akko was all but begging for that anger to be focused on her. How she managed to keep from crying as she gave voice to her deepest fear, she didn’t know, but she had. She said those words, fully expecting Diana to explode into a rage.

But she hadn’t. She had stared at Akko with wide eyes that shone with hurt shock. Her next words had been soft, almost pleading, and Akko had to acknowledge the truth to them. Diana was a woman of her word, and having her swear an oath that she would be merciful was, quite honestly, the best chance that Akko had, short of demanding to go with Diana and refusing to take no for an answer.

Should she have done so, regardless?

Akko whimpered softly, drumming the heel of her hand against her forehead, doubt and worry surging once more. What a damnable balancing act this was! Pushing the issue in front of others would only undermine Diana’s authority, even more so that Akko already had by telling her no the once. Yes, these men were loyal, but even loyal men could talk, especially since there was one thing that Akko couldn’t change:

She was a commoner.

Worse yet, she was a commoner who had told a Countess no, she was a commoner who all but ordered and absolutely forced a Countess to swear an oath. Even that alone was madness! How _dare_ she do such a thing?!

Her stomach soured as she stared out the window once more, brows furrowed together in a worried frown. She dared to do such a thing because she loved Diana. As she had said, she would stand defiant even against Diana if it meant protecting her from all her enemies and all threats against her, even if that threat was the anger that held Diana in its cruel grasp. Or perhaps _especially_ if that threat was the threat that they faced.

Should anyone insult Diana, Akko could box them about the head until they apologized.

Should anyone attack Diana, Akko would fight them with all the ferocity of a tiger until they were driven off or dead.

But she couldn’t do either of those things to Diana herself. In the heat of the moment, she had made a choice and acted on it. Now all that remained to be seen was whether or not that choice had been the correct one. Once more, she started praying, pleading with the Almighty that Diana would come back to her, that she would still be the same person that her subjects were quickly growing to love and trust.

“Um, Akko?” came the timid voice from behind her, and Akko flinched slightly, the chair creaking slightly as she turned in it, looking over her shoulder at Lotte. She was standing now, there in the middle of the room, her face a mask of worry as she fidgeted slightly.

“Yes, Lotte?” Akko asked, only to realize that her nerves had her clenching her fist around her sword’s hilt, her knuckles shining white in the daylight that shone in from the open window. It took conscious effort to relax the hand, her fingers and forearm aching slightly as she did so. She was truly tense, wasn’t she?

“Would you like to learn more of my language?” Lotte asked, still in that same timid voice that sent a pang of regret through Akko. Was Lotte afraid of her? Did she fear that Akko would lash out at her? Akko knew that a great many knights had well-earned reputations, and that crossing a knight could be dangerous.

But she had hoped that Lotte would know her better than that by now…

Akko sighed as she forced herself to relax still further, shrugging slightly to rid her shoulders of some of their tenseness, and she smiled at Lotte. “That would be greatly appreciated, thank you.” Anything to distract her, anything to pass the time that dragged by at an agonizing pace. Why not have it be something like this? Akko loved to learn new tongues, even if she was not so big a fan of writing in them. But speaking them? She had a gift for picking up new languages, something that Sir Alric had been pleased about even as he bemoaned having to teach Akko how to read and write, not to mention all the other subjects that a knight should be learned in.

But the spoken word… _that_ Akko enjoyed very much, picking up English and French and Latin quicker than her peers, and what little opportunities she got to learn German or Welsh she took full advantage of. Having Lotte here as Diana’s lady-in-waiting? Why, Akko had all but tripped over herself asking to be taught Finnish, and could already hold very basic conversations, even if her accent was still atrocious. Despite her struggle to properly pronounce some of the words, she could tell that Lotte delighted in having someone truly interested in her culture.

Akko paused slightly at that thought, eyes flitting thoughtfully towards Lotte as she reminded herself that she wasn’t the only one who was worried, and the fact that it took her this long to remember that wasn’t right. Honestly, Lotte had it worse. Wedinburgh was Akko’s home, she knew these streets, knew these people. Lotte? She was far from home, and Akko and Diana were Lotte’s closest friends, and if anything happened to either of them, Lotte…well, she’d be significantly more alone in an England where foreigners were viewed with ever increasing wisdom with every passing day, what with the growing discontent against the Poitevins.

So, yes, Akko wasn’t the only one concerned for Diana, and it had been selfish of Akko to be so consumed with her own worry that she hadn’t noticed Lotte’s distress. But she could change that, here and now. She forced a smile of her face and made her way over the where Lotte was sitting, and the two of them sat down and began to speak in Finnish, both of them doing their hardest to not think about what they were waiting on, who they both hoped return to them.

Time passed slowly, and every time they heard footsteps in the hall they would both tense, looking towards the door, all but holding their breath as they paused, waiting for the door to open. Time and again they were disappointed, and it became more and more difficult for them to return to their conversation. Akko struggled in particular, words that she knew that she knew escaping her, and she spoke haltingly until finally she stopped, staring at the surface of the small table sitting between the two of them.

She could feel Lotte’s eyes on her but couldn’t bear to look up and see that look of pity, not when it felt like someone was sitting on her chest and her skin prickled like she was covered in biting ants. She had tried, she really had, but she wasn’t strong enough to put her worry aside in order to reassure Lotte. How was she supposed to be Diana’s champion when she wasn’t even strong enough for this?

“It’s alright to be scared.”

Lotte’s voice was soft, but sure, and Akko’s head snapped at as she stared, wide-eyed, at Lotte who was giving her a reassuring smile. “What?”

“Being scared. It’s not a bad thing, is it? If anything, it just goes to show how much we care for her.”

Akko hesitated, hands fluttering uselessly in her lap. “But being scared isn’t accomplishing anything,” she protested.

“No. But what can we do until she returns? If there was some action that we could take and we didn’t, then we will have done wrong. But there isn’t. Best thing we can do is be here for her when she comes back, and not judge her actions.” Her face grew focused, her brows coming slightly together in concentration. “Nolite judicare, ut non judicemini.,” she murmured softly.

Akko let out a breath. “Judge not, lest ye are judged.” True. It was not her position to judge Diana. Lotte was right, they should be here for her when she did return, and support her. If Diana didn’t act with the mercy that Akko hoped she did, then she would just strive to help Diana get back on the righteous path. She gave Lotte a smile that was a great deal more genuine than the ones from before. “Thanks, that helps a lot. You’re really wise, you know that?”

Lotte blushed. “Oh, not so much. I just care for my friends is all.”

“And we love you for it,” Akko replied before she tilted her head with a curious frown. “What would Matthew 7:1 be in your language?”

“Oh! Um, it would be…” Lotte started, eyes losing her focus as she thought for a moment before continuing, “älkäät tuomitko, ettei teitä tuomittaisi.” She said the words slowly and carefully for Akko’s sake. Akko tried to repeat it, but her tongue tripped over some of the words, and Lotte giggled before correcting her pronunciation.

Feeling far more at ease than before, it was easier for Akko to become occupied by the language lessons, and while worry still remained, it was nowhere near as powerful as it was before. Lotte had made excellent points, all that they really could do was pass the time as they waited for Diana to return.

They had moved on to other bible verses when the noise from the streets beyond the window changed in tone, and Lotte took one look at Akko’s face before she was quickly standing and walking across the room so that she could see outside. Once more Akko felt a surge of gratitude towards Lotte. While it was true that she desperately wanted Diana to come back, she was still worried about what that might mean, and now that the moment might have arrived, anxiety and anticipation warred in her gut. She was afraid that if she stood up now, she might very well become ill. So she stayed where she sat, feeling almost as though she had become rooted in place as she stared at Lotte as she peered out the window before turning back towards Akko. “It’s her,” she said simply, face and voice betraying little emotion besides concern.

Akko’s hand tightened into a fist. “And?”

Lotte shrugged, looking uneasy. “And she’s returned,” she replied.

Akko frowned as an annoyed anger reared its head. “Well, what’s she look like?”

Lotte’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, right, I don’t think I’ve told you,” she said. “My eyes aren’t so good, Akko. I’m sorry, but at a distance everything is a blur.” She gestured apologetically at the window. “I recognized her horse and the color of her dress more than anything else.”

The words brought with them a surge of frustration, and yet also a feeling of sympathy. Akko couldn’t even imagine not being able to see clearly, so for Lotte to live every day in a blurred world…that was terrible! “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, immediately feeling foolish the moment the words passed her lips. Of course there wasn’t anything she could do! Perhaps if the Lord Jesu were here He could cure Lotte as He had cured the blind, but Akko was no worker of miracles.

Thankfully it did not seem as though Lotte were terribly offended, and she gave a soft smile. “It’s fine, Akko. My eyes have been this way my entire life. I’m used to them, it’s just that there some things that I can’t do.”

Akko bit her lip, guilt tugging at her heart. “Still, though…at the very least, I apologize. I thought you were mocking me and grew angry at you, and that isn’t right, especially since I know you better than that. You wouldn’t do something like that.”

Before Lotte could answer that, the sound of several people’s footsteps could be heard through the closed door, and Akko turned to face it, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. _Please let her be the same, oh Lord,_ she prayed as she sat up straighter, her palms sweating. _Please not have let cruelty win!_

There was a pause at the door, followed by Diana’s soft voice, the words lost through the wood before the handle rattled slightly, lifting the latch holding the door shut, and it swung open.

Akko’s breath that she hadn’t even realized she had been holding released in a soft whoosh as her eyes fell on Diana’s tortured gaze. Akko was standing even before Diana had the chance to speak, and she glanced over her shoulder at Lotte. “The Lady needs quiet rest, and shall be taking her evening supper in the room. Please see to the arrangements,” she ordered, and Lotte nodded. Akko turned her gaze to Alfred and his men. “Do you have a task from our Lady?” she asked.

Alfred nodded, his face grim as Diana looked between the two of them, her eyes betraying the pain she was feeling. “Yes, Dame Kagari. We have some new information worth looking into, and have been ordered to look into it.”

Akko nodded, her face grim. “See to your duties then, Captain.” She pointed at four of his most loyal men. “I want two of you standing post at the door until told otherwise. No one save Lady Lotte or Alfred enters this room, understood?”

Two of them, Peter and Eric, nodded. They stepped into the hall, their jaws set and steely glints in their eyes. Alfred looked at the other two. “Roland, Eustace, go and get some food and get some rest. In three hours, replace Peter and Eric so that they get their turn eat and rest.” He turned to Akko. “We’ll get some dinner before we had back out, I’ve made some good contacts these past ten days. We’ll find them, I swear it.” He gave Diana a bow. “By your leave, my lady.”

Diana hesitated, her face drawn and wearied. But then she nodded and gave a gesture with her hand, and the men girded for war left the room, their maille jingling as they filed out, their spears upright, with steel heads glimmering in the light that came in through the still open window, reminding Akko of nothing so less than a copse of trees. Then came a soft touch to Akko’s elbow, and she turned to catch Lotte’s gentle and reassuring smile before she followed after the men. Peter and Eric gave the room one final scan before Peter nodded to Akko, his face grave as he closed the door.

Thus, just like that, Diana and Akko were alone in the room.

Akko glanced at Diana for a brief moment before she skirted around her, bolting the door, giving them a final measure of privacy. Then she turned to face Diana, striding up to her and gathering her up in her arms. As though that were the one thing she was hoping for, Diana shuddered as her hands swept up to clutch at Akko’s back. She had only just been barely holding it all together, hadn’t she? But that’s what she had Akko for, to support her when she needed it. But given Diana’s reaction to it all…

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Akko murmured, heart sinking as she did so. Had Diana ordered it, only to regret her choice after the fact?

Diana didn’t answer for a long moment as she stood trembling in Akko’s arms, and when it was clear that she was trying to find the strength to speak, Akko moved them over to the couch against the wall. They both sank down into it, and Akko rubbed her hands comfortingly up and down Diana’s back. Then, finally, Diana drew in a breath. “He shouldn’t have had to die,” she whispered hoarsely. “But he was so very ill, there was nothing else I could do.”

Akko blinked, grimacing as her eyes prickled with tears. “The man who…lost his arm?” She couldn’t force herself to say that that she was the one who took it from him. At the time, she had been so concerned with _survival_ that she had fallen back on years of training, and the men’s anger had been so unexpected! But she didn’t hate any of them. She wished she could turn back time so that she would stay on the main roads, and not go through the Burrows. She felt responsible for what happened…at least in part. If she hadn’t bumped into the men, the fight never would have happened, the men who died that day would have never met her sword, and Diana would never have had to experience what she did today.

Diana nodded against Akko’s shoulder. “The records show him innocent. The ruling was that he was possessed by a demon.” She paused. “Akko…he mentioned crows.”

Akko stiffened at that, drawing back, her brows furrowing. “There were. I had thought there were more than usual when I left to return to the castle, and in the courtyard there were so many and their caws made it hard to think.” There was something else, a memory from long again teasing her by remaining just out of reach. What was she not remembering?

Diana’s eyes squeezed shut, and she sagged. “There’s something at play here beyond our understanding and I don’t like it. An innocent man died for it. Tobias Fletcher spoke of strangers spreading word of a reward for your no longer being my champion.” She frowned, protective anger glimmering in her eyes. “Alfred will find them, and they will pay for Tobias Fletcher’s death!”

“Then we shall leave Alfred to his task,” Akko murmured as she drew Diana back into her arms, holding her close. Oh, what a confusing mix of emotions swirled through her. Relief that Diana was still who she was, guilt that Akko had had to fight the men in the first place, anger at the strangers who put a price on her head, concern about what tomorrow and the days after would bring, and – strongest of all – concern for Diana. Being a Countess was no easy task, and Diana would face countless challenges to come. Akko knew that. But that didn’t mean that it did not wound her to see Diana like this.

Lotte would soon return with some food for the three of them. Alfred would continue his hunt for the blackguards who threatened his lady and her champion. Beyond that, reconstruction of the castle would begin even as tensions across England and its neighbors would flare still further, especially between the French born Poitevins and the native English nobility. But here and now, it was just Diana and Akko taking comfort from the strength of each other’s arms.

For now? That was all that was needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just a couple of housekeeping notes. I've gone back and made a few minor changes. Nothing that really changes the plot, but more actually tying in dates and historical events. For example, Akko is knighted 24 June 1250 and Diana is named Countess of Wedinburgh five days later on 29 June. Bernadette died on 5 August 1250 and her funeral was on 15 August. Henry III was available to attend because he was touring the country, drumming up support for crusade, something the actual King Henry III attempted to start in 1250. After that first winter as Countess, Diana travelled to Wedinburgh in April 1251 in order to arrange for Wedinburgh Castle to be renovated.
> 
> Just more of an FYI than anything else. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	12. Coarse and Loyal Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred Erinson knows he is not the scholarly sort. He is a man of simple pleasures, steady and true, and utterly loyal to the Lady Cavendish. He is also coarse, willing to do whatever violence is necessary to protect those that he cares for. Good, then, that he was given the task that so suited who he was as a man: hunting down the wretches who have been plotting against his Lady and Dame Kagari. This was a task to his liking, and one that he would see to with relish!

Coarse and Loyal Men

Alfred Erinson was a man of simple pleasures. He was not a high thinker, nor had he much interest in book smarts. He saw little use in the lofty debates that other men had in the taverns and the inns and in the fields. Why waste time and air talking about something that they could do scarce little to change? It seemed like wasted effort to Alfred. Better to spend his time honing his own craft.

This was not to say that he was a stupid man. After all, one did not get risen from the ranks and be made Captain of the Guard for the Cavendish family by being a dullard. No, Alfred had rightly earned the position with years of effort and hard work, and by being solid and dependable, not likely to become excitable even in the face of great peril. And he could puzzle his way through problems, even if it might take him some time. In his opinion, it was as the fable went: better to be slow and steady than fast and erratic. Leaping headlong and making a mess of things would do them little good in this business. It actually reminded him of his cousin, who was a hunter. The hunter who rushes about the woods will drive the prey to ground. The one who stalks slowly and reads the signs well net their quarry.

So, too, here, only the prey was his fellow man.

He scowled at that thought as he and ten of his men made their way through the dark streets of the Burrows in the pre-dawn hours of the morning, armored only in their gambesons so as to not make as much noise this morn. So far as he was concerned, those that they hunted now were little better than beasts. Men? Pah! As if they could actually be called thus! Cowards and fiends, more like, bandying about in promises of rewards should Dame Kagari be _convinced_ to no long be Lady Cavendish’s champion.

Even the mere thought of it had his hand tightening on the haft of his spear. He had known those two since they were mere children, running about with bright eyes and promising futures, futures that the both of them had matched and exceeded.

And now foemen were trying to interfere with those futures. Unthinkable.

It had been tempting, of course, to call for more men from the manors that he had influence over, to start working through the Burrows with five score men at his back, but he knew that while that would satisfy the urge to act, it would not flush out the conspirators, that they would likely slip away in the confusion. So he had bid his time, sending out the men he trusted most, men who knew people from within the city all while Alfred and the others visibly searched elsewhere. Even then, he worked with his own contacts from within the seedy underbelly of the city to gather as much information as he could. Men like the plotters typically thought themselves smarter than those that hunted them, and so if given the perception that they had outwitted the guard, they would do something foolish, something that would catch the eye.

It was funny, really, how gloating foxes never seemed to notice the snare slowly drawing around their necks…

He glanced at his men, six of whom had a log weighing some twenty stone suspended on ropes between them. A battering ram, of course. Useless against an actual fortified gate, but for their purposes? It should do nicely. The fools they hunted had finally contacted a man who reported the meeting to sympathetic ears about an offer to double the award for Dame Kagari’s death, which just wouldn’t do, not when she had only just fully healed. Couldn’t have Lady Diana’s hard work get all undone, after all.

But that contact meant that Alfred finally knew where the knaves were for certain, that what information he did have was doubly confirmed, and if he knew where they _were_ , well, he could go visit them and have a nice _chat_ about what was and wasn’t proper here in Wedinburgh.

Alfred and his men marched without torches or lanterns, relying on the dim moon and starlight to guide them through the winding, narrow streets of the rougher parts of the Burrows where even the City Guard dared not venture without more than a half dozen men at a time. But Alfred and his men weren’t the City Guard.

Alfred sidled closer to the shifty looking fellow who was leading them to the house where the conspirators were operating out of, and he laid a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing firmly. “Are we drawing close, neighbor?” he asked in a voice that was perhaps _too_ genial, given that he and his men were girded and armed for war. But there was always time to be pleasant, right?

The man trembled under his grip. “Yes, m’lord,” he whined in a nasally voice.

“None of that,” Alfred said gruffly. “I’m no lordly man. Just a subject of the Countess, same as you.” He paused. “I am glad to have so stalwart a guide as you, though. A lesser man might get lost, and, why, getting lost would just be a damn shame, wouldn’t it, neighbor? Could even be considered unhealthy.”

The man began shaking harder. “I just want these ruffians gone!” he whimpered. “We just want to be left alone, and they bring bad things here.”

“Bad things?” Alfred asked. “Whatever bad things could those be?”

The man’s gaze darted between him and his men, the whites of his eyes visible even in the dim light of the moon and stars. He didn’t answer.

They continued on their way in silence, and Alfred let his mind wander to lighter things. Since he was in the city, he might as well get something for Ygritte. He always tried to keep an eye out for beautiful flowers or other keepsakes his wife might enjoy while at home, but there was something to be said about getting her something nice from Wedinburgh itself. He had even been saving up some money from his wages so that he might be able to afford something truly special for her. And if this raid went well, perhaps the Countess would find it in her heart to give him and his men a small reward. He wouldn’t mention it, of course, but Lady Diana was a kindly enough ruler that she’d likely think of it on her own.

One of the reasons he was so loyal to her, honestly.

The guide stopped at the mouth of a narrow way that was somewhere between an alley and a side street, and Alfred ignored the sight and stench of the piles of human and animal waste that lay heavily in the clogged ditches that ran alongside the dirt streets. The guide opened his mouth to speak, only to stop as Alfred gave the thin shoulder still under his hand a firm squeeze. The guide stayed silent, though he began trembling again.

Alfred’s men knew to remain quiet as well, even the six men carrying their hastily built ram making conscious effort to deepen and slow their breathing so they weren’t so loud, and Alfred tilted his head, listening.

A dog barking off in the distance, and from one of the alleys they had already passed a ways back, it sounded like there were cats either fighting or screwing, he wasn’t sure which. A few houses down the main street came the sounds of a man and woman arguing loudly, something about alleged infidelity. Rats rustled through the refuse of the street, searching for scraps of food, though they ignored the men just as the men ignored them. Normal night sounds for where they were at in the city.

His grip on the man’s shoulder loosened. “Down that way?” he asked, gesturing down the narrow way with his spear. The man nodded. “Excellent, lead the way.”

The man hesitated for a moment before he moved, and now that they were close, Alfred kept his head on a swivel. He didn’t believe that the enemy was waiting in ambush, but it didn’t hurt to be ready. The twelve of them stole along, the men carrying the ram keeping their strained grunts as quiet as possible, and Alfred was glad that they were almost at their destination. He didn’t want them too worn down when they set upon the house. Speaking of…he squinted, eyes sweeping across the street that was just wide enough for four men to walk abreast. It would be a tight squeeze…

They went down the winding street about a hundred feet before the man stopped again, gesturing at a rickety, run down two story building, and Alfred felt a flare of annoyance at the sight of the wattle-and-daub walls that desperately needed resurfacing. Honestly, did they have no pride, or were they so lazy that they couldn’t be bothered to repair the rundown walls?

At least the street opened up a little here, and they were able to swing the log around, and Alfred quietly gestured for them to lower it. They did so, softly, and Alfred gathered the men together. “Patrick,” he murmured softly, “watch our neighbor, here, make sure he’s well taken care of, yeah?” The young man glanced at the pale man and nodded. “Rest of you lot, limber up.” They did so, rotating their arms and shoulders and twisting their torsos in preparation for what was just about to happen. “Now, remember, we’re trying to take as many of them alive as possible for questioning. These ones are too stupid to be the masterminds of the plot against our Lady and Dame Kagari. Ready?” They all nodded. “Right, let’s get to it.”

The six returned to the log, lifting it by its ropes, and Alfred and the three others followed closely behind as Patrick stood off to the side with the rat-faced man. Alfred took a deep breath as his heart started to pound in his chest. It didn’t matter how many times he went into action against foemen, his heart always began to race like this, just as his palms got sweaty. Been a guard for over twenty years now, and it _still_ happened. At least it only seemed to affect him before the fight…once it began he was fine.

The men on the ropes looked back to him. He nodded. They swung the log back…and forward, its face mere inches from the door’s surface…and _baaack_ …and forward, harder now, driving near three hundred pounds of dense wood against the door with a hollow boom. It splintered and cracked under the assault, but somehow held, bolt just barely keeping it upright. “Again!” Alfred roared as startled shouts came from the other side of the door, and the six swung the ram back before driving it forward. This time the door succumbed to the ram, crashing open, and the men dropped the log. Alfred waited until it was obvious that the log was still and not rolling before he rushed forward past it, followed by his three men as the other six drew their swords and axes and picks. They would come in behind Alfred and the other three.

A scene of chaos greeted them from within the house, men rising from where they had laid down to rest around the hearth at the center of the house that still had embers glowing in it. Some few had knives and cudgels, and Alfred’s men fell on them in a rush, striking them with the butts of their spears and the backs of their axe heads. It was a short, brutal fight, one that Alfred’s men won readily as Alfred advanced further into the house, searching for the stairs leading to the second floor. It was dark within, but this was the reason why Alfred had made the journey with no torches or lamps. Less chance to be spotted – light sources at night were useful for guard patrols but a liability for a raid – but also so that his eyes were already well adjusted to the dark. Not enough for the fine details, but enough to see opponents.

Towards the back, he found the narrow, rickety stairs leading up, and he spun at the sound of rushing feet behind him, spear coming up for a moment before he paused, seeing the spear and gambeson of the man. One of his? “Who goes?”

“Bartholomew.”

He relaxed, turning back towards the stairs. “Good, on me.” The two of them climbed up, Alfred leading with his spear’s head, slow and cautious. “How many?”

“Four.”

So that left one more, according to the sources that Alfred had. Likely the boss of this group, if he was up on the second floor alone. Gritting his teeth, he moved up the stairs until he reached the second floor where he paused, listening once more. Hmm. Nothing. There were several doors up here, which room to try first?

Then, almost as though in answer of his question, light flickered under the door at the end of the hall to his left before it grew into a soft, yellow glow. Alfred glanced back at Bartholomew, who shrugged. “Might as well,” he whispered.

True, that. If the light was on, the person on the other side was expected them. Nervously spinning the spear’s shaft in his hands, he advanced before reaching the door. At least it seemed much thinner and of shoddier construction than that of the house’s front door. He lifted his foot and drove it into the door, and it gave way with that first kick. What he saw drew him up short.

The first thing that caught his eye was the groaning man who lay prone on the floor, stirring feebly. On the bed beyond him kneeled a young woman, blanket pulled up to cover her chest, and she smirked as she primped at her blonde hair. Alfred sighed, grimacing slightly. “Gwyn,” he said by way of greeting. He nodded at the man on the ground. “Your doing?”

She nodded, looking inordinately proud of herself. “Figured I’d help you with your work.” She gave a sinful grin. “Shame you never help me with _mine_.”

“I’m a married man, Gwyn.”

She scoffed as he and Bartholomew stepped forward to gather the man under his armpits, and Alfred spotted the sap that she had used to knock the man senseless. “As if that stops most of my clients.” Her dark eyes landed on Bartholomew, who stiffened under her gaze. “What about him?”

“Never you mind, Gwyn,” Alfred growled warningly.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she pouted.

“Tonight isn’t about fun, it’s about finding these men. Speaking of…” he nodded at the sap. “How’d you know it was tonight?”

She yawned, stretching her arms over her head, the blanket falling to her waist. Bartholomew made a rather odd noise at the back of his throat. “I knew because you’re a man, and men are all impatient.”

He blinked, thinking of how long and how carefully he had plotted and waited before springing the attack. “Pardon?”

She grinned. “Oh, you’re better than most, darling. Honestly, one of the main reasons why you’re one of my favorites, even if you don’t use my services.” Her hands played with the hem of the blanket on her lap. “But once you knew how many there were and where they were, you pounced like the loyal hound you are.”

The man between him and Bartholomew groaned weakly and stirred. Alfred cuffed him without looking down, and the cur went limp again. “I couldn’t let them escape.”

“But you knew enough about them to keep an eye on them, Alfred,” she pointed out, her face growing grave. “These men are idiots, only useful for spreading trouble and convincing other idiots to do stupid things. They don’t have the ability to plan anything.” She rolled her eyes. “I cannot tell you how boring it was listening to these dotards boast about what they were doing.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re lucky I like you. I’d never speak to these cretins otherwise.”

Alfred nodded his thanks. “And without you then finding them at all would have taken longer. Expect half again the normal payment, Gwyn.”

“Oooh, _generous_ ,” she teased. “You must really have wanted them.” Then her face grew serious once more, and she slipped out of bed, ignoring Bartholomew as he averted his eyes with a choke. “I fear you acted with too much haste, Alfred,” she said as she pulled her dress on and tucked her sap away out of sight. “These men are but pawns, and if you had watched them without acting, they would probably grow bold and sloppy and make contact with the one who controls them.”

Damn. Those were actually very good points. Alfred had let his fear of these fools slipping away control him. “Did they ever mention a name, something we can work with?”

She shook her head. “No. Surprisingly, they weren’t that stupid, and never said a name in my presence.”

Alfred harrumphed. “That’s annoying.” He didn’t bother asking Gwyn why she never questioned the conspirators. She had to be careful, and asking direct questions about something like this could only raise suspicions against her, which could prove deadly. Alfred had been very clear with Gwyn that she was never to do anything that could put her at risk. Luckily, a lot of people were rather stupid and would boast about things they shouldn’t, or even forget that Gwyn (or any of the servants he paid for information) was in the room, making her an invaluable asset for keeping abreast of various plots.

“They did make one mistake, though,” Gwyn said.

“Oh?”

“They referred to their benefactor as she and her. Whoever it is, it’s a woman.”

Alfred grinned at that, immediately thinking of just who that woman might be. “That helps a lot more than you know, Gwyn.”

She nodded, and then hesitated with a glance towards Bartholomew before she stepped up to Alfred, hugging him close. “It was nice seeing you again, Alfred,” she murmured softly. “Give Ygritte my best.”

He briefly returned the hug with his free arm. “Will do,” he replied gruffly. “Though I’d wait for us to clear out and cover yourself up before we leave. Had a rat-faced fellow by the name of Fink guide us here.”

She drew back with a scowl that was equal parts disgusted and hurt. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I do, Gwyn. You said there were five of them, and got us down to the neighborhood. I took that as gospel.” He gestured around them. “But all the damn buildings look alike here and half my lads are country folk, and the few from the city aren’t from this part of it. I didn’t want to spend half the night lugging a twenty stone log around the Burrows trying to find a house by description.” He gave his own teasing grin. “Couldn’t expect you to be our guide. You were otherwise engaged.” Then he let the grin slip away. “But in all seriousness, be careful. Their benefactor is still out there and I don’t want you tied into this business. I can promise that none of these men will live long enough to speak of your involvement tonight, but all that is needed is for someone to be a little too nosy and catch sight of you leaving for you to be in danger.”

She smiled fondly at him. “Yet another reason why you are my favorite. You really care about me.” She glanced at Bartholomew. “I know you aren’t interested, Alfred, but I’m feeling a generosity of my own. If you’ve the time, send the boy to me, I’ll show him a good time for a discount.” She reached out, running her hand down Bartholomew’s arm with a purr. “If he’s one of yours, I know he’s a good man.”

With that, she sashayed out the door, Bartholomew watching her go with intensely focused eyes. Once she started heading down the stairs, the younger man turned his head towards Alfred. “Sir, who was _that?_ ”

“Her name’s Gwyn,” Alfred replied as he hoisted the still unconscious man higher in his grasp. “We’re acquainted.”

“ _Sir!_ ”

“Oh, still your tongue, boy, and stop looking at me like that. We aren’t acquainted in _that_ way, and that’s all you need to know!”

A pause as they began to drag the ruffian towards the stairs. “So then can I-?”

Alfred cut him off with a heavy sigh. Oh, to be young again with one thing on the mind. “On your own time, lad, and out of your own pocket!”

They rejoined the others, Alfred absently noting that he didn’t spot Gwyn on the way down, though that wasn’t much of a surprise. Girl was startlingly good at slipping out of sight when she wanted to be. She was likely tucked away in a corner somewhere and would wait until things had quieted down before she left this place. Honestly, the less he knew, the better. Putting her out of mind, he and Bartholomew handed the ruffian to the other men. “Make sure he’s not got anything surprising on him when you bind him, and keep them all separate,” he ordered, and as his men did his bidding, he slipped out into the foul stench of the street beyond the door. He was not surprised to see that, for all the commotion that had just taken place, none of the inhabitants of the neighboring shacks and houses seemed at all interested in the goings on. All the shutters remained closed up, and no lights shone behind them. Compared to some of what these people had seen, tonight likely seemed all but tame.

At least the Fink fellow didn’t seem quite as terrified now, seeming to only grow braver as each blackguard was escorted out of the house, prodded along by spearheads in the smalls of their backs. “The log, sir?” came the question from one of Alfred’s men.

“Leave it, the folk here can use it as firewood. Let it be a gift from our Lady,” he ordered before he stepped up to Fink, patting his shoulder once more. “Excellent job here, neighbor. Now come, let’s get you to a safer part of town. I would just feel _terrible_ if something violent were to happen to you after all that you’ve done for us this night.”

That had all the bravery that the man had been feeling fleeing away, and he paled once more. “O-of course,” he stammered.

Alfred had to fight the urge to smile. No harm was to come to little Fink, no matter what the man might be thinking, but this way he’d be out of the way – not to mention less likely to try and loot the house – so that Gwyn could slip away unnoticed. Sighing with some satisfaction as to how the raid went, he led his men back from whence they came, his mind straying once more to far more pleasant thoughts.

Perhaps a new wimple. He could ask Lady Lotte to embroider it with something nice. Hmm, perhaps peonies. Ygritte loved peonies. He’d have to see if the tailors or merchants had thread in the right colors for that. He nodded to himself, feeling rather pleased with his decision. Yes, that would do nicely, quite nicely indeed.

xxxXXXxxx

Some few hours later found them in one of the larger storerooms of a warehouse near the mayor’s house, the room empty and large enough that the five rogues could see one another but could not hear or talk to one another without shouting. Lady Cavendish had been informed, and was expected shortly. While it had been tempting to have his men start working the fiends over before her arrival, Alfred had abstained. Better to not risk drawing his lady’s ire by acting with some initiative. Still, that didn’t mean that Alfred couldn’t ask some questions prior to her arrival.

Thumb and forefinger stroking his moustache, Alfred strode over to the lead ruffian. The need for stealth long over, he was wearing his maille hauberk that jingled with each step, his heavy sword belted to his side. The man watched his approach with defiant – if not slightly glazed – eyes, likely posturing for his fellows. Unfortunately, posturing wasn’t going to win them much, not now. Alfred paused before the man, staring down at where he was sitting on the straw strewn packed earth floor, his arms bound behind him. The cur’s eyes wandered slightly, and what few words he had spoken to this point had been slurred. Rather unsurprising, really. Likely had a terrible headache, as well. Getting knocked senseless was no small thing, no matter what the stories suggested.

Sighing and giving a pitying shake of his head, Alfred knelt down so he was level with the man. “You know, it’s going to go much easier for you if you just talk,” he said, words calm.

The man merely glared at him before snorting in through his nose, only to hock and spit in Alfred’s face. Defiant cries sounded from around the room, but whatever response the man expected, it probably wasn’t what he got. Alfred’s men merely started laughing, and Alfred just leveled a flat, level stare at the man as he took out a rag wiped the phlegm from his face, glancing at the rag for a moment before tucking it away. Then his arm came up, reaching for the man’s face, and he flinched away…only for Alfred to gently pat his cheek.

“What kind of man would I be?” he asked as he brought his hand back to his side. “If I were the type to punish you for so small a thing?” He cocked his head. “You do realize that, yes? How useless that gesture was? One small last gasp of defiance in the face of certain doom. Spit away, neighbor. No matter how many times you do, you’ll still be tied up on the floor, and I will still hold your very life in my hands.” He turned his face to the side. “As the Holy Scripture says, turn the other cheek. Do you wish to try again?”

The man’s eyes darted to each side before focusing on Alfred’s face. He did nothing.

“That’s rather what I expected. Now, as I was saying, it will do you no good to hold your tongue.”

The man sneered, some of his bravado returning. “Why should I say a damn thing to you?”

Alfred regarded him for a moment. “You do realize that she’s not coming to rescue you,” he said evenly, only for the man to flinch and stare at him with shocked eyes. “Nothing but your doom awaits you beyond those doors, and you aren’t leaving here until we have some answers.”

Fear cracked the man’s voice. “What, are you going to torture us? Real brave to hurt defenseless men!”

“Real stupid for cowards who couldn’t be bothered to face Dame Kagari with their own lives rather than send otherwise innocent men to their deaths to speak of bravery,” Alfred returned, his voice deceptively light. “And, no. I don’t expect we’ll have to torture you. Lady Cavendish frowns on such things, and I won’t act without her permission. Which, incidentally, is good for you. I’ve some knowledge of truly terrible things that I don’t believe you’d relish to experience.” He scratched at his chin as he peered thoughtfully at the man. “Granted, that depends heavily on my lady’s mercy, and she was powerful angry at you lot. She considers you wholly responsible for the death of Tobias Fletcher and his fellows. All I need is permission to do so, and I’ll hurt you until your tongue is wagging freely.” Her peered over his shoulder. “Well, hurt you or your little friends. Someone will talk…eventually.”

“You think I care about them?” the man sneered, though Alfred noticed that he spoke the words much more softly than before, so that none of the others could possibly hear him.

Alfred turned his attention back towards the man. “Oh, I know you don’t. I know I could do anything to them and you wouldn’t care about them, just as they won’t care what I do to _you_. You’ve no loyalty. You’re all just pathetic rats and worms scarcely worth my attention.” He paused. “Pathetic rats and worms who’ve been how long without confession?”

The man froze, his face paling at the implication behind that question.

“Hm. See, I know the local clergy. They would not dare spill the secrets of their dear parishioners to any living soul. What is said in Confession is between the man, the priest, and God Himself.” He reached out once more, seizing the man’s jaw with bruising force, lifting his face so that he was staring directly into Alfred’s eyes. “Not one of them has recalled speaking to men who are not Wedinburgh born. We are all of us sinners, neighbor, but herein lies the difference ‘twixt you and I: I know I’ll be afforded the chance to confess before my final breath. The same can _not_ be said for you. You start talking, or else I’ll spill your steaming guts onto the floor so that you have some taste of the eternal damnation and torment that awaits you!”

The man’s face was pale and tinged with green, but he did not start speaking.

Alfred sighed with disgust, shoving the man’s face away before he stood, his hand going to his sword’s hilt. “Have it your way, knave. Shame for you to suffer for all eternity to a woman who holds no loyalty for you.”

The sword was halfway drawn when the man desperately shook his head. “W-wait, I’ll talk, please! I’ll confess to get my confession!”

Alfred slid his sword fully back into the sheath. “Very good, neighbor. I’m proud of you. Better for you to stand before your judgment with all your sins absolved and your body whole, I always say.” His eyes narrowed, and his hand remained on the sword’s hilt. “Now, when did the Lady Daryl Cavendish speak to you, and what price did she promise for the death of Dame Kagari?”

The man’s mouth flopped open and shut as he gasped like a fish, wild eyes glancing to and fro. “I-I didn’t…we never spoke to a…I don’t know of what you speak!” he cried out, only to recoil in terror as Alfred began to sloooowly draw his sword with a grim face. “No, I swear it on His name! We never spoke with a Lady Cavendish!”

“Might you not know her name, ye foreigners?” Alfred growled with a fell gleam in his eyes, the sword continuing its inexorable unsheathing. “Did the lady have hair of two tones, of pale gold and a light green? Were her eyes not blue?!”

“No, no, they weren’t!” the man wailed. “She had hair the color of lilac, and teal eyes!”

There was a gasp from off to the side, and Alfred looked up to see Lady Diana and Dame Kagari standing off to the side. He hadn’t noticed their entrance. Dame Kagari stepped forward, her normally friendly and open face drawn into a frown, and she joined Alfred to stare down at the man. “This woman, did she feel unnatural to you? Did her eyes seem like they were far too old for her face?” she asked, and the man looked well and truly terrified now as he nodded. She hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder at Lady Diana before turning back to the man. “Did her face show any signs of age, any wrinkles, any grey hairs, anything to show the passing of years?”

The man frowned thoughtfully, his eyes still wandering slightly as he tried to focus past the fear and the likely pain of his headache. “N-no,” he stammered after a moment. “Her eyes were old but her face was that of a young woman’s, smooth and full of youth.”

Alfred grimaced. “My apologies, if I hadn’t rushed capturing this man and his companions, then perhaps we could have caught this mysterious woman as well.”

To his surprise, Dame Kagari shook her head. “Perhaps it’s a good thing you did not. I get the feeling that any meeting with her would not end well.” Worried crimson eyes met his curious gaze. “Lady Diana and I met her when we were children. Remember that day, shortly before I left on my training? Diana and I rode to the woods to slay a dragon.”

That…really didn’t narrow it down. Akko had been the adventurous sort as a girl, those words could describe any number of days from her childhood. But if it was before she left, then…

Her eyes peered back through the years as she became lost in memory. “She had looked like a young woman, but those eyes…” She grimaced. “There are powers that we don’t understand at work here.” Then she grinned, patting Alfred on the back. “Good work, though. Capturing this lot means Wedinburgh is that much safer.” She turned to Lady Diana. “Do you have anything you wish to say, my lady?”

Lady Diana shook her head. “No. We’ve heard enough. They have admitted to being part of the plot against Dame Kagari, and a plot against her is a plot against the Cavendish family. We all know the punishment for such a crime.” A brief look of sadness flitted across her face as she glanced around at the pitiable men bound before her. “See to it, then, that they are brought to the garrison and the Bailiff of the Hundred Court and charged with conspiracy to commit murder against a noble family.” She paused, hands fidgeting slightly as she looked down at the lead foeman. “It was by your own actions that led you to this moment. You conspired against my household, and will thus pay for your crimes,” she said, her voice sounding impossibly weary. “I only wish that I never needed to be made aware of your wretched existence. Better that you had never heard of the Cavendishes, and that I never had to waste a moment of my life thinking of you.” She glanced at Dame Kagari, her expression softening slightly. “Know, though, that I do not hold you in contempt. Merely pity.” She straightened slightly. “Alfred Erinson, ensure that these men get their final rights before they are put to death. For all their crimes and sins, they do not deserve eternal torment for them. Let them confess and be absolved, so that they might know God’s grace.” She turned and started to walk away, Dame Kagari hurrying over to her side as she gave one final glance over her shoulder at them. “Let this be my final mercy towards you.”

With that, she and Dame Kagari left, and Alfred stared down at the man before him. “Right, then. You heard the Lady, let’s get you up.” He bent down, grabbed the man from underneath his armpit, and hauled him to his feet.

It didn’t take that long, honestly. Alfred and his men were able to attest that the blackguards had confessed to their crimes before the Lady Cavendish. Satisfied, the Bailiff of the Hundred Court passed the sentence: that the five men were to be hanged from the neck until dead. A priest was brought in, the men gave their final confessions before they were marched to the gallows. Alfred watched without much emotion as the deed was done, and once it was clear that the sentence had been well and truly carried out, he and his men left.

As they did so, it seemed as though a weight had been lifted from Alfred’s shoulders, and some of the menace had been removed from the city. It had taken some time, but he had hunted down and brought justice to the foemen who had conspired against his Lady and her Champion. Yes, there was that business about the mysterious woman, but it had been demonstrated that plotting against the Lady Diana Cavendish would result in getting found and punished. That was enough for a simple man like Alfred.

He nodded to himself, satisfied with a job well done. Perhaps now was a good time to get that wimple…and perhaps something nice to send his oldest daughter, who was currently serving the Lady Barbara Parker. He hadn’t seen her in a while, though her letters always cheered him up. How blessed was he that he served such fine nobles that they would even teach the daughter of a commoner guard to read and write?

The rest of the day passed without incident, and it didn’t come as a surprise when Lady Diana informed him as she gave out some extra pay for their deeds that they would be returning to the manor on the morrow. With the business with the conspirators wrapped up, there was nothing more keeping them in Wedinburgh. The castle would be renovated, and Lady Diana would receive regular updates as the reconstruction occurred. Staying in Wedinburgh was merely imposing on the mayor and his hospitality. It was time for them to return home.

Spirits were high that night in the large room that Alfred and his men had been given to use as quarters during their time in Wedinburgh, the men joking amongst themselves as they prepared for the journey to take place in the morning. Bartholomew was subject to teasing in particular…though none of the other men knew the connection the Gwyn had with the business from the night before, they did know that Bartholomew had gone and used her services…the goofy grin on his face after his return was telling enough.

For his part, Alfred had made sure to quietly take the young man aside and gently remind him to not confuse this with love. The lad was at that age where such things could get muddled. Gwyn was a professional skilled at her craft, and Alfred respected her and was fond of her…didn’t need one of his men following her around like a lost puppy while she tried to do her business. Quite honestly, it was probably a good thing, then, that they were returning to the manor. He didn’t think Bartholomew would get into any mischief intentionally, but there was that saying about the road to Hell and good intentions…

Then, shortly before they turned in for the night, Alfred heard someone mention Dame Kagari and how they were relieved that she was full recovered. That brought about a chorus off agreement from the others.

“We’re not the only ones happy about that,” Peter chuckled as he cast the dice that he and some of the others were playing with onto the spot on the floor around which they were sitting. “Lady Cavendish seemed full relieved, fit for all of us and more!”

Another murmur of agreement from the others, and Alfred got up from where he was sitting on the straw mattress that the mayor’s steward had supplied. He made his way over to the others quietly and without a fuss, earning a few glances as they continued speaking.

Roland heaved out a gusty sigh. “I only wish that a woman would look at me the way the two of them look at each other.” That had the other bachelors voicing their agreement, and the conversation switched to the men discussing the attributes of some of the available women back at the manor and the surrounding villages. Alfred was proud that the comments were not too coarse, and that they spoke highly of things other than just the women’s appearances. If nothing else, being the guards of Lady Diana and training with Dame Kagari had given his men a high degree of respect for the fairer sex, something he was happy for.

Then Eric leaned back, stretching out his legs with a sigh. “Lord Jesu as my witness, but I am _glad_ to be going back home. I’m tired of smelling this city’s stench. Get me back out into the country where the air is cleaner.”

Eustace snorted as he scooped up the dice before casting them. “Oh, come now, you big babe, it’s not that bad.”

“Says you. I’m going have to throw out my damned shoes after stepping in all the shite that I have!”

“I’m surprised you mind, given all the bullshite what comes pouring out your mouth!” came the tease, and Eric rolled his eyes as he flapped his hand dismissively.

“Fine, fine, then if not for me, then for Lady Diana. She’s not happy in the city, would much rather be home at the manor, tending to her garden.”

Slightly raucous laughter. “Not the only garden she’d rather be tending!”

“Oh?”

“Aye. The Lord as my witness, methinks that she wouldn’t mind traipsing through Dame Kagari’s garden, iff’n you get my meaning.”

Alfred frowned at that, clearing his throat firmly as he crossed his arms across his chest. “You watch your tongue, lad. The Lady and the Dame are good women who follow the Gospel. I’ll not tolerate such talk about them!” Silence followed his words, and he glared down at the lot of them, his moustache bristling as the others all but cowered before him. But then, he gave a long, slow wink. “Even if we know it’s true…” he went on leadingly. The men laughed, relaxing at that, and Alfred shook his head, holding up his hand. “But in all seriousness, there’ll be no more talk like that. We owe the two of them more than coarse words, no matter how coarse we may be.”

That got a chorus of solemn ayes from the men, and Alfred looked over all of them with a solemn eye. “I mean what I said, now,” he continued. “What they do behind closed doors is their own business, and they’ve both been very good to us. They don’t make ribald comments about what we do with our wives or sweethearts, let’s show them that same courtesy.”

They were all looking at him, quiet and still, all joking gone from their faces. “I’m sorry, Alfred, ‘twas just a jest,” came the sincere apology.

Alfred nodded. “And you’ve had your jest. Let it be the last of its kind. As one of you said before, we should only be so lucky that anyone look at us with even half of the devotion that those two share between them. As the Lady’s guard, it is our solemn duty to keep our gobs shut and to shut the gobs of those who speak poorly of her and Dame Kagari.” He sighed, looking off into the distance. “Seriously, lads. The way they look at each other…stories are sung about that sort of love. I can think of no higher honor than to be those that help protect that love from fools who are jealous of it, who don’t understand it, and who want to destroy it in their ignorance.” He focused back on the men. “Can I trust you to that task?”

Their faces were grim and determined as they nodded and said aye.

“Very good, then. Now, let’s see to the final preparations. We go home on the morrow, lads!”

A hearty cheer answered his words, and Alfred felt his heart swell with fondness for the men before him. Good lads, if not a bit coarse. But good folk like Lady Diana and Dame Kagari needed rough and coarse men like him and the lads to do violence on their behalf. Such was the way of things, and that was a duty that Alfred would see to until his dying breath.

Heart fairly humming with the fatherly love he felt for the boys as well as with anticipation for the journey back home to his hearth and family in the morn, he helped with what little packing remaining, a spring in his step and a whistle from his lips.

They were going _home!_


End file.
